Do you ever have one of those days where you know you have to do a bazillion other things, but you can’t think of a single one of them and all you want to do is something else. That was me yesterday. Today, I seem to not want to do anything.
Yesterday I started story boarding on paper and writing things down for the new piece I have in mind. I’m really excited about that, though I need to start working on some short fiction as well before I let this thing run away with me.
The Tower, is currently in a stage where I have to get things down on paper, but I haven’t started writing it yet. I let it sit for a few days and now I’m incubating the ideas some more, turning them, sitting on them, trying to decide exactly what I’m doing with them. It’s one of my favorite parts of the writing process.
I’m going to let you all in on a little secret about the writing process. The writing… isn’t even my favorite part.
I KNOW! That’s ridiculous!
I actually love the planning and revising more than I love the actual act of writing the story. Planning and revising are relaxing and fun.
In the planning stage I get to relax, look at pieces of what I might use. Order them online and have them delivered. Maybe jot down a few notes or sketch out a floor plan, no heavy lifting.
In revision I get to refine and detail and tidy up. I get to make the real purpose of the piece shine through.
But the actual writing, that’s the rough part. Sure, there are days where you get into a rhythm and you just go at it until you don’t know where the day went, and those days are great, those are the days I live for in the writing phase. But most of the writing phase is taken up by grunt work and manual labour. It’s blood sweat and tears.
It kind of feels like having a tooth pulled if you didn’t have any kind of anesthetic. (Or so I imagine.)
Writing is painful and today I seem to be avoiding it. I’m nowhere near that stage with The Tower, but I can feel myself avoiding getting to that stage just by not working on the storyboard.
So why do I do it? Why do I write at all?
I write because I have to. I write because if I don’t I’ll go even more insane than I already am.
I don’t know what’s going on right now, but I can feel with every second that I don’t write, the depression and anger creeping back into my life. And that needs to stop.