Writing about writing

October 13th, 2018

I’m never ashamed of the scars you see across my face,
I’m only afraid that this will change
         Break Your Halo, Andy Black

It’s 9:11 where I am, and I got up at 8:00. Usually I roll right out of bed, make coffee, sit down in front of the computer and start working. No joke, I’ve usually begun writing 8:02, that’s the way the world is wired for me. Not today though. Today I’ve been awake about six times during the night, and every time I’ve felt like shit. Not in a physical way, but mentally I’ve been sad, like truly just sad. I have a feeling I might even have been crying, sometime during the night. Nothing bad happened to me, no one hurt me or even just did something bad to me. I’m just miserable, for no other reason than myself making me so. I honestly don’t get why I keep doing this to myself.

It’s all about the book really, and it sounds so horribly stupid and somewhat pathetic, to react to your own piece of writing this way. I just… I just really wish I could have made this one a happy ending. I don’t get why that is so impossible for me. It’s like this: I sit down to write the story line. I keep asking myself questions along the way, I keep taking notes of what’s going to happen next, sometimes skipping a few chapters forward, writing what should happen somewhere down the line. And all of a sudden, I find I have written myself into a corner, where it can only end badly, if I want to finish it the “right way”. If I want to keep the integrity of the story, I end it just like that, no matter how sad I find it to be. I feel like I have to. I can’t go off twisting and turning the plot, for my own pleasure’s sake. It doesn’t work that way. When you really get to know your characters, you know how they’ll react in any given situation, and unless you want to break horribly out of character with them, you’ll just have to accept their fate.

Honestly, sometimes it just sucks.

So instead of begin working, instead of reading through all of the notes I made yesterday, I sit here and write a blog post, listening to Andy Black, and feel wholeheartedly sorry for myself. At the same time I find myself to be insanely annoying, who the fuck cares that much about some god damned fictional characters in a fictional world, only existing on a piece of paper? Why can’t I just write the damn thing, without getting this emotionally attached, to something that isn’t even real? I don’t get it. I wish I knew if there was other people who felt this way too. If there was someone sitting somewhere out there, feeling just as miserable as I am, just because they are writing something that really isn’t all that happy. I guess I just don’t want to be the only one, because if I am, that means I’m truly fucked up.

Honestly, I feel like going straight back to bed, and just lie there. Just ignore everything I should be doing, and not give a fuck for anything at all. It wouldn’t be possible, it would continue to rummage around in my head, but still. I might just try and do it anyway, once I’m done writing this blog post.

There’s only 18 days left until NaNoWriMo starts though, and as such, I really should be working. I still haven’t gotten those character profiles down on paper, although that shouldn’t be all that hard. I know them by now, it’s really just a matter of writing down what I know. I’ve got the story line all written out, 26 chapters, which means I should at least try and write a chapter a day, once November starts. That part is scary too, I don’t know if I can do it. It shouldn’t matter all that much, I’m sure a lot of people end up with not entirely finished novels. The goal is 50.000 words after all, it’s okay if I don’t make it all the way to the end. But I want to. I want to have it all finished, by the end of November. And I don’t want to “cheat”, I don’t want to start before November does, even if it means working all that harder during the month. After all, that’s what the challenge is all about.

I think I’m going to go feed the kitties now, and at least give my bed a longing look. Maybe I will return to it, maybe I’ll be a grownup and start reading through the chapter guide. Maybe I’ll try and block out the world entirely, just spend all day in bed, being sad. Whatever happens, I can assure you, I will feel like shit all the way through it.