my writing seems to be both a blessing and a curse these days. on one hand, I feel like I'm starting to get back to the point where I was at once. A long time ago, I could sit down and write for hours. I could do it all on pen and paper, and I used to fill notebook after notebook with stories. I used to be good at writing too.
(this blog doesn't count, because from a writing standpoint, its absolute rubbish)
While I'm getting back to this point, I'm also remembering that some of my best work would come from being incredibly emotionally charged. Over these last few weeks (the last few days in particular) I've been on an edge. I've been snappy, angry and aggressive, which generally isn't like me. I've been depressed and spending lots of time alone, craving social interaction, only to actually detest it when the time came. I honestly have to thank my boyfriend for putting up with me these last few weeks. I have a few people I guess I should thank for fueling my angry fire as well. Disputes with my family, accusations from friends, drama...and all I want to do is lash out in a way that just strikes me as incredibly childish.
But during this hot-tempered time, two great stories exploded in my brain, and both have started flowing back onto paper. Characters have just materialized in my brain, plot holes are being filled. I have a middle, but no beginning or end. I have pages of characters, their lives slowly unravelling as I add more and more.
this is pretty spectacular. I've been out of it for nearly five years. It even feels the same. After five years of being told it was all "a waste of time" I'm starting to get back into it. It's just unfortunate that I have to endure these bouts of anger, sadness and sometimes elation. It's an emotional rollercoaster at best.
but I'm getting a few good stories out of it. That's worth it, right?
(this blog doesn't count, because from a writing standpoint, its absolute rubbish)
While I'm getting back to this point, I'm also remembering that some of my best work would come from being incredibly emotionally charged. Over these last few weeks (the last few days in particular) I've been on an edge. I've been snappy, angry and aggressive, which generally isn't like me. I've been depressed and spending lots of time alone, craving social interaction, only to actually detest it when the time came. I honestly have to thank my boyfriend for putting up with me these last few weeks. I have a few people I guess I should thank for fueling my angry fire as well. Disputes with my family, accusations from friends, drama...and all I want to do is lash out in a way that just strikes me as incredibly childish.
But during this hot-tempered time, two great stories exploded in my brain, and both have started flowing back onto paper. Characters have just materialized in my brain, plot holes are being filled. I have a middle, but no beginning or end. I have pages of characters, their lives slowly unravelling as I add more and more.
this is pretty spectacular. I've been out of it for nearly five years. It even feels the same. After five years of being told it was all "a waste of time" I'm starting to get back into it. It's just unfortunate that I have to endure these bouts of anger, sadness and sometimes elation. It's an emotional rollercoaster at best.
but I'm getting a few good stories out of it. That's worth it, right?
