Back to the Future

I have always wanted to be a writer. And in a way I have been a writer since forever. When I was 10, I wrote my first fairytale about a prince on a quest to find a magical flower. I remember starting with great enthusiasm, which faded when I was around the midpoint. Then things became hard. The only thing that kept me returning to it was the fact that my classmates wanted me to enter a story contest on their behalf so we could win a trip to a theme park. I finished, and dutiful delivered it to my teacher. Thoroughly unrevised of course.

We didn’t go to the theme-park.

What I did learn was that not everyone can write a story. Not everybody can make it to the end. And even fewer trod back through the mess they created and fix it until it works.

So back to the future of today. Even though almost thirty years has passed I still follow this process.  I start with great enthusiasm, to end up slacking midway. Why did it take me 36 years to realize that if I want to be a published writer I have to write stories until I reach The End. I need to go through the hard time of letting the story suck. And getting back to it, fully armed with all the guns I can carry.

This post is for everyone doubting themselves today. For those who fear they will never belong to the club of successful writers (and this can mean anything, but for me the biggest part in being successful is actually finishing the story)

You are brave to start writing.

You are successful when you finish a story.

Because not everyone is writing a book and not everyone can write a decent story. Not everyone will reach The End. But we will. Because otherwise a 10 year old version of me will come haunt you.

 

( so Nanowrimo, I’m up for the task, maybe not the 50 k, but I will protect my writing time with a shotgun).

 

 

 

 

Invisible Army

(The above title consists of the first words I wrote this November and I’m definitely adding them, and the rest of this post, to my NaNoWrimo total. Because I can).

A peculiar part of the World’s population is turning to blank pages armed with pens, fear of blinking cursors, or maybe even with fingers glued to an old fashioned typewriter. An army of writers pounding away time, word for word.

November is the month of novel writing, and I find it very strange that the idea of thousands of unknown people doing the same thing, is motivating. Why do I care that there are lots and lots of other people wanting to write a story? Why do I find solace in the idea I’m not the only one looking for the exact word to use, and the perfect name for a character?

It’s because it makes me feel less alone in this writing thing. And less crazy.

The idea of writing a 50.000 word story in one month is a big one, but for me it’s more about taking action. The rest of the year we can get back to overthinking and spending time waiting for circumstances to be different from what they are.

November is for action.

So thank you invisible army of international others! I salute you and wish you the best in your endeavours.

🙂

Meet Pie / On writing

I’m a very slow writer.

One that goes back and forth, editing. By the time I get to the end of the page, every word has been evaluated, deleted, put back or replaced. If you could see an audit trail of the page, you would probably think I have a multiple personality disorder. My inner editor is a good friend, but also my worst enemy.

Her name is Pie.

(It always seems a good idea to eat pie, and most of the times it is. But if you eat pie every day, the mirror probably isn’t going to tell good things, and I’m not even talking about what your health is thinking).

Like eating pie, it always seems a good idea to listen to my inner editor. But in a lot of cases she is the one slowing me down, and gets me wondering why I’m bothering in the first place.

That said. I’m doing NaNoWriMo. Pie is taking an obligatory holiday. She’s going to need to be well rested for the mess of words I intend to produce this November.

Also doing NaNoWriMo? You can find me/ buddy me here: http://nanowrimo.org/participants/ireneh