I've Been Waiting For This Moment For All My Life...Oh Lord

As a novelist, I do a lot of waiting. Sometimes it seems I'm a waiter, not a writer; I've trained myself not to want, nor to hope, nor be to impatient, because that would be the death of my work. Because isn't anything wonderful worth waiting for?

Sometimes, the waiting takes on the form of a snarling dog that rips away at a your insides, making you want to finish the project as soon as possible so you can dump it in the hands of the publishers, thus ridding yourself of the the pain and difficulty of writing. This is also a time when impressing people seems to take center stage: "I've got to finish my book/story soon, or nobody will take me seriously! Hey you, wait--it'll be good in a year, two years--please, don't give up on me!" To writers melting under this horrible impatience, I say--learn to love the dog, pet the dog, bring the dog into your heart and perhaps then it won't overstay it's welcome. (Sorry about the excessive metaphors) I was at this stage about six months ago, when I felt that my novel was heavy and dead; a mere anchor dragging me backwards to my old mistakes. Now I'm at the stage (see my third point) where I'm learning to love my novel for itself, flaws and all. Time does that sometimes, and the benefits wouldn't come without the waiting. Good Puppy.

Other times, the waiting takes on the slow, monotonous motion of constantly dripping water. Drip...drip...drip...drip. It splashes onto your head, your desk, your computer, making you wish you didn't have this f-ing rain cloud of work hanging over your head. Every day is the same: get up, go to work or school, go home, sit at the computer, and type for long hours. Perhaps your day is a bit more varied, but you get the point. The impatience is more annoying than enraging; in the back of your mind, you feel this tangible duty, this chore. The water never stops dripping. To these writers, I say, just fix the leak already! Remember why you became a writer in the first place. Instead of having monotonous days of a normal occupation, you have monotonous days of the world's most fun job! (or hobby) Isn't there peace and freedom in monotony as well as boredom and impatience? All you have to do is change your mindset to the "Waiting For Summer Stage."

As the above name implies, the last stage occurs when the waiting resembles the passing of seasons. I dont' know about you, but I absolutely adore spring and summer...and detest fall and winter. But I've learned to deal with the long days of snow and sleet, the fizzled grass under my feet, because my cold northern state is the most wonderful state in the USA, and the seasons are what makes it my home. Writing is the same way. Although sometimes waiting almost kills me, I've learned to slide into this seasonal mindset and to ride out the impatience for publication, to push back the desire to have something tangible to show for my hard effort. Because it will come, just like summer. *Brings to mind Wayne's World: If you book them, they will come* (And no matter what, writing is still the best job in the world.)

Oh, Go Find a Hobby

Hi!
This is my first time on Blogspot. Well, I thought it was Blogspot, but the address says blogger.com. Whatever.

Anyways, a few months ago, I tried to start a website on fiction writing, but then I realized that I didn't have enough "professional" advice to fill an entire website; I only had these psychological musings on the topic of writing floating around in my head. Therefore, I concluded that blogging is a better way to spend my time. Plus, I can no longer procrastinate--now it's simple: I just sit down and write about whatever is in my head. By the way, if you do want to read my old posts on the aforementioned website, here is the address: http://writinginthevortex.weebly.com/

Today, my topic is People Who Do Not Understand. PWDNU's are a writer's worst nightmare. They are the people who stand behind you while you are whittling away at your story/book/memoir and say, "boy, you're slow. You must have writer's block. Why don't we go for a walk in the park instead? I hear the ice cream truck will be coming by." Or, they tell you what a certain someone in my life has been telling me lately. "You never have time for me! You never have time for anything or anybody besides your book! No, I can't give you three hours in the morning to write, and by the way, your book is stupid." (Said in anger, but not sincere, I hope) Besides friends, parents and relatives can also be a part of a writer's social nightmare: "You're throwing your life away sitting at the computer all day; you should go out and exercise like normal people; you can't make a living off of writing; come take out the trash...etc."

As is implied, these are people who just don't understand. And it makes sense. How can someone who has not experienced the joy of the written word, either in reading or writing, understand the love involved, the love between story and author? And even those who have experienced the feeling...well, they haven't experienced the drive or the desire to be a writer. Not everybody is willing to put in the time actually writing a book or story, and even less are able to comprehend the time, nurturing, and learning involved with writing. Perhaps we as writers should try to understand our dull, uncomprehending counterparts; perhaps we should pity those poor souls who have not a drop of ambition or creativity in their veins. Just kidding! (no hard feelings to those who don't write.) My point is, don't give up...even if your friends or family just don't get it. It's worth it.

Well, it's getting late and sleep is calling. Night!