March 26, 2010
Like a certain masked vigilante once said, I think it’s time we had a nice long chat. I looked through the news all day today and part of last night. I tried to put it all together, get the pieces to click together and paint a story, show some fundamental truth or lesson.
Instead, I faced off against a foe I dread. It is the foe every writer fears with a the kind of terror typically reserved for a flock of moths armed with knives.
This is about writer’s block.
After two months and almost thirty articles, the pressure’s finally started setting in. I’ve had writer’s block before, usually in conjunction with some massive writing assignment. Deadlines, peer review, and the challenge of working on three hours of sleep and about six shots of caffeine from soda and energy drinks… Someone once told me I always looked on edge when I had a big project.
Thing is, I like the edge. I can see more from there.
It’s by no means a healthy way to write, and I can’t keep it up for long. Eventually, like today, that pressure that could once create a diamond out of dirt just crushes me. It burns. Writing becomes a chore, and that’s the worst time to write. If it feels like work, I approach it like work. I resent it. I want it gone. I look at it like it made disparaging comments about my mother.
My Netflix account entices me with old movies and dumb white kids getting slashed to pieces in C-grade horror films too lame to waste shipping. Facebook whispers to me that my mortal enemy in Starfleet Commander is plotting to nuke my planets. Then I remember how utterly sad it is that I have a blood feud with some guy whose call sign is Mocha Grande.
Phil and Kaja Foglio’s excellent webcomic, Girl Genius, features Sparks, mad scientists that can enter a state of hyperfocus where nothing matters except the creation of new inventions, the warping of the laws of nature and reality, where their charisma and intelligence reach their physical limit.
They also tend to go insane for short periods of time.
Stress, the need to write something not because you want to, but have to for someone else, in this case the readers, is a powerful force. It’s more than just some online journal. At least, I’d like to think so. I guess this is the stage in the relationship where I realize that I’m in it for the long-haul, which just happens to coincide with the week I have uptillion other things to do and my allergies start acting up and suddenly the world is not so rosy and peachy and bluebirds don’t sing.
This is it.
I also think I drank too much caffeine. The keys are moving around. Or I keep forgetting where the letters are located. Kind of like people who think New Zealand moved and they’ve slipped into another timeline.
Slowly but surely, it’s hitting me. I have a responsibility. It’s not just me blabbing. I can’t just put something up that will get views. Actually, that’s kind of what drives the site and the ads. The point is that I write the kinds of things I’d like to read, and I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I enjoy writing them. And I promise I won’t bore you with writer’s block stories in the future.
Basically, the site’s been up for three months now, and between my allergies, the lack of sleep, the repetitiveness in the news, and some other stuff that came up, I just wanted to tell everyone reading this, “Thank you.”
It’s a little past the three-month anniversary for the site, but I promise I’ll get you something nice for the one-year anniversary in 2011. There might even be flowers and candy. For now, though, this little rant will have to do.
see more Hacked IRL – Truth in Sarcasm
In lieu of some biting social and artistic commentary, I present to you steampunk Nazis in space!