So, darkjade68 over at The Written Word has passed this challenge onto me. Me being me, I couldn’t help but accept! I love a challenge. I’m told that Renee A.S Jacobson was the original creator of this challenge at Lessons From Teachers and Twits. So, without further ado, I shall set about completing this challenge, the objective of which is to complete the sentence, ‘writing is like …’
So, what is writing like?
I could answer this ever so literally, but I won’t. I could tell you that writing is like playing God, but I’ve never been God, so I can’t liken writing to it.
Writing is like existing. At least, to me it is … a combination of existing and feeling, really. Those short stories I’ll never show a soul, those are cathartic in nature, everything within me spilling out onto the page. Those that I do show are usually bleak enough to reflect what’s going on inside my head, the things that I’d never openly show myself to be, because I’m not the same person when I write. What a hack of a sentence. I’ve mentioned before that I do my best to be positive; that my writing is the polar opposite.
Recently, in a fit of frustration that decided to visit at around the same time as they tend to, I broke down. I told my mother that people, they can take anything from me. Anything at all. I don’t care (speaking within reason, of course, and referring mostly to material possessions, not people), and I wouldn’t care until the point that someone tried to take away my ability to write. To imagine. Destroy my computer, burn my notebooks, take away my pens, I’ll speak it. Cut out my tongue, I’ll still imagine it. Hell, I’d even try writing with my elbows or something. It would be pretentious of me to say that writing is my thing, it is not, it is something that many many people can experience and I am happy for them to. I often try to encourage my younger sister to write more, and often fail in doing so. Anyway, it is not mine and mine alone, but what it is is my livelihood. And at this point in my life, it is one of the only things keeping me relatively sane.
Writing is a fairly recent thing for me, though, something I will visit in greater detail in a post written for tomorrow’s Teens Can Write, Too! Blog Chain and so, I would be lying if I said that I’ve always felt this way. I’ve come to feel this way, though.
I’ll openly admit that I don’t write as much as I should. I spend more time thinking of ideas than I do actually executing them, which is why NaNoWriMo is something of a savior to me here, and why the main brunt of what I write during the other eleven months are usually short stories, rants, scenes that I transfer from my head onto paper only because I’m running out of head space and feel it is more practical to take up disk space instead (my external hard-drive takes care of all that) – I’m not so much nervous about showing my work to others as I am conscious of the fact that it is never good enough. But sometimes, it being good enough isn’t the point. It helping me to feel something, or even get rid of a certain feeling, was the intention, and if I achieve what I set out to do, I’m happy.
But writing is also like existing, at least for me, in that it always has its ups and downs. There are days when things are so plain sailing that I can’t get the words down on paper (or an Open Office document) quick enough. There are days when I’m straining to write every single word down, because it doesn’t seem to want to come. Life is mostly like this. There are days when you wake up, and just know that today is going to be a good day. You wake up with a good feeling, and can’t wait to go out, and do what you need to do. Then there are those days where you struggle to even get out of bed. From the moment your feet touch the floor, nothing seems to go right. You put your slippers on the wrong feet (though for me, this us usually accounted for by lack of sleep), the kettle won’t boil fast enough, you’re out of coffee, the milk’s gone sour … those kinds of things.
The thing is, much like living, I’d never want to give it up. It gets tough sometimes, and I wonder why I ever bother, but then something will happen; I’ll write something and feel so good while doing it, or after I’m done, that I’m suddenly reminded of exactly what it is that made me start doing it.
I feel as though I’m rambling and being impossibly positive here, and my glasses haven’t come through from the opticians, yet, so I’ll cut to the chase. I’m going to challenge the following bloggers (whether or not you accept, guys, is totally up to you!) –
Megan at verynormal, because as I’ve already said, I really enjoy reading her blog, and would love to see how she completes the sentence, and John Hansen at The Incessant Droning of a Bored Writer, because, similarly, he always has something interesting to say, and I’d love to see his response to the question.
As I said, you don’t have to accept. Enjoy, all!