writing again

i've gone away from writing stories for a while, and it sucks. my problem has never been starting, but saying "what's next?" and answering that question. i have a million three-page stories that go no where.

i've always wanted to be a published writer, not just a writer. when i was younger, i wanted to be a pulitzer-prize-winning published writer. i think that idea has gone by the wayside. these days it would be a massive accomplishment to finish something. so i'm trying. you can't write nothing, i read somewhere once. it might be crap, but that's not the point. it's getting written.

current writing inspirational song: bon iver, "holocene"

i am a crap writer

i have had one dream ever since i was little, shining like a beacon that i held in front of me - i want to be a writer.

not just a writer, because in my mind that's not enough, but a published writer. and perhaps a critically-acclaimed published writer whom jhumpa lahiri really, really enjoys, but "just" a published writer would be good, too. in fact, that wold be great. that would be a dream come true.

i'm doing nanowrimo this year, that crazy thing people do every november. the idea is to write a 50,000-word novel in 30 days. basically it's 30 days of hell, because writing is 20% actually writing and 80% overcoming the constant self-assessment that you are the very worst writer that ever lived, ever breathed, ever existed.

writing is not for the faint of heart. or the lacker of self-esteem. it's basically a cesspool for sadists. or masochists. or both.

and here's why - it's because i care so much that i hate everything i write. those papers in high school and college, the ones that i got a good grade on simply because i could string a sentence together, were no reflection of my writing ability. they were simple showcases of my talent for vomiting bullshit on a computer screen. and believe me, i was proud of them, especially after i had friends who spent hours on papers, only to get Cs and Ds. but those papers weren't anything to be really happy with, not on a writer's level. i didn't care about those papers about crappy books i hated or homoerotic, metaphysical feelings between two random Shakespeare characters. i cared about the short story i wrote for samrat that he absolutely massacred - and about the second draft that he praised. because for two seconds, just a wisp of time, i felt like i wasn't the very worst writer that ever walked the earth. i felt like my moments of talent could possibly come together to create something that some literary agent would connect with, and then beg and plea some publisher to publish. and it all might come true, this dream of me of opening up a box and seeing a book with my name on it and smelling that truly wonderful smell of fresh book - possibility, hope, pages and pages of words that are all mine.

so i keep writing this crappy story i'm working on, keep churning out words that sometimes remind me of the bullshit vomit, keep going, hoping the next sentence will be better, or the next, or the next one after that. it has to be. what i lack in self-esteem, i make up in determination. i can do this. i have to do this.

just one more word.

nanowrimo

so i went and joined this website with these crazy people who think they can write a novel in a month. it's a movement called nanowrimo - national novel writing month. i've been so lax on my writing, it's disgusting. how do i expect to get published one day if i don't even bother to write anything? (or if what i write is total crap because i haven't been writing?) writing, like anything else, takes practice. writing a story, novel, poem, whatever, then forgetting about it for a week, is usually the best way to improve your writing. but you have to keep writing other things while you forget about what you already wrote, then go back and improve what you originally wrote as you're forgetting about the stuff you already wrote. it's confusing, but this is one of the best self-editing tools for me and the only way i can be objective about my stuff.

and nothing like a little pressure than joining an online group of thousands of people around the world, all of whom are churning out novels that have to be 50,000 words or more in 30 days. crazy, right? but it's going to be fun. and maybe just the kick in the ass i need.

a project

t left today. we're both trying to stay positive, and doing a pretty good job about it. his leaving involved a frantic search for the cell phone at 6:15 a.m. then hammie redeemed himself after pooing on the floor yesterday by finding it laying on the ground a ways away from our apartment. what are the chances? hey, i never said i was an atheist...completely. so t has his cell phone, thank goodness, and is coming home next weekend to help my brother and dad move all the heavy stuff. so it's just like way back when he was working for hh gregg and would travel for a week or even two weeks at a time. just like that.

meanwhile, i'm lonely already and need a project. besides the whole house thing, i've decided that i want to try to write a romance novel. i love my romance books. this is a love affair that's been going on for more than a year now, so i'm pretty sure it's not a crush. there is little else that makes me happier than snuggling in bed with hammie and a new eloisa james (i broke down and had to buy her new one, "a duke of her own." being #20 on the waitlist at the library wasn't going to cut it, especially after "this duchess of mine" was so good!). good romances, as i've said before, are really well-written pieces of literature. writing one isn't going to be easy. but i have fallen in love with this world that i can't believe took me so long to learn about. then of course i had to think of a good story idea and decide what period i wanted to write in. of course i picked regency. i've rarely veered away from romances from that genre, and vastly prefer them to any others. i just need something to occupy my time and help me remember everything will be alright. because i really, really believe it will be.