Rant to Write

12 Mar

I am decidedly frustrated with life right now. I won’t detail the difficulties I am having with my kids right now, more specifically the teenager. I am working on studying for some extra tests to keep my EMT license in effect. And on top of that, the state of Georgia decided to create a new level of EMT. My pride forbids me to bypass the optional bridge program to upgrade so I can look forward to more school.

My frustration stems, not from being busy, but from my inability to write- to get my brain in that ‘writing zone’. So I sit down to write. I get my notebook and pencil, my computer booted up and ready, my tea sitting next to me, quiet instrumental music in the background (because silence can be stifling and make my claustrophobia crowd me) place my fingers on the keys- and I stare at the blank page. What am I writing? Am I brainstorming for magazine articles? Am I digging for a unique character? Am I reliving a dream? Or am I stuck because I am having a hard time getting business for my freelance writing business? The latter is certainly true. But I try very hard to not allow that to become a block. Yes, I am failing miserably.

I get so physically exhausted trying to think, trying to write, trying to organize my thoughts between family, career, self. After I am tired, I get down on myself. I sit outside smoking, venting to my word processor in hopes that by just getting some of my frustrations off my chest, I can open that door to my genius inner Writer, if only a crack. That little sliver of light would give me such hope.

When that doesn’t work I get pissed off at myself. I start yelling at myself to just sit down and WRITE! Write anything. Write everything. It seems something MUST come of writing everything, right? I set goals for myself, only to see them bumped off my map because of all the pressing issues that come up from day to day. Again, my depression sets in about my writing and I don’t feel like a whole person. I stop writing for a couple of weeks, a month, longer. Until I finally manage to find a place where I can pick myself up and start the whole process over again. A comment made in the movie, 28 Days, with Sandra Bullock (love her!) adds to my frustration. “The definition of insanity is doing something over and over and expecting different results.” How appropriate. So to try to break my chain of chaos, I read. I read novels, I read the plethora of writing magazines I subscribe to, I read other peoples blogs. I get inspired. And this inspiration leads me, again, to the beginning of the cycle. I refuse to give up because writing defines me. Without it, I would be lost. I would be wild, as Strayad was wild during her momentous journey to find herself, as the children in Lord of the Flies, as only one who has lost themselves can be wild. Lost. And wild. Chaotic. Angry. Resentful. Hurt. Writhing within myself wondering how no one can see that I have clawed my eyes out, wrenched chunks of flesh from my body and torn at my bloody, matted hair as I scream at the top of my lungs from the depths of my soul for my loss, my pain becoming all consuming. No. I cannot live without writing.

Well, I guess that decides it. I’ll start again.


4 Responses to “Rant to Write”

  1. John March 12, 2012 at 14:15 #

    Walter Mosley, the mystery writer, finds great value in freeform writing. Just sit down and let what’s in your head tumble out, regardless of how much sense it makes or how integrated it is. He claims this frees the mind and sometimes results in wonderful, unexpected bursts of inspiration.

  2. Alex Kyzer March 12, 2012 at 15:12 #

    There you go… Already back to penning it down.

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