Not In The Past

Looking forward from 30

See where this takes me

I never seem to scratch beyond the initial ideas of what I come up with in my five minute free writes, and lately it feels like a chore.  Part of it is because I’m back at home, and back in a sort of holding pattern that I don’t necessarily like being in but feels nonetheless too comfortable to leave, at least for the time being.  I feel like part of me needs to have more experience (or at least more varied experience) before I can really write, because otherwise my mind goes stale.  I find myself repeating the same old lines and concepts, but not really finding a groove or an exploration.  Maybe it’s a sign that I’m writing with an audience in mind again, not trusting my inner voice (or some other vague new agey terminology).

The days seem to blur together now.  Before I know it, the year will be over.


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2 thoughts on “See where this takes me

  1. It’s tough to listen to your inner voice sometimes.

    I don’t subscribe to the “you have to Do Stuff before you can write” school of thought. Look at Lovecraft. The guy did nothing BUT write (and read the thesaurus, apparently).

    Don’t stress out too much. Sometimes it comes, and sometimes it doesn’t, and for every piece of really *good* writing you create, you’ll churn out a pile of dreck. Just like for every Rolling Stones, there’s a dozen Nickelbacks.

  2. Ben, I’ve read a number of your free writes, and there’s no question they’re characterized by angst. I think you find yourself in the same position many other young people (and not so young people) do. Use that in your writing. Mine it for everything it’s worth.

    Maybe you don’t think that’s enough to write about, that you need to find something big or profound to share with readers. Believe me, you don’t. Writers use what they have to write about, and, without knowing it, speak for many, many people who feel the same way.

    In my early twenties, I already knew I wanted to be a writer (actually, I knew long before then), but I told myself I hadn’t lived enough of life yet to have anything of value to offer anyone. I see now I was wrong. What I lacked was perspective and insight.

    Because we’re living in it, we don’t see it for what it really is. And we don’t imagine anyone else could possibly be interested in it. That’s where we’re wrong. Use your angst and your pain and whatever you’re going through. Find the form that’s easiest for you to use and share. Go deep.

    Help your readers know they are not alone, that someone in this world feels exactly the same way they do. That is the power of writing. And I have no doubt that, once you start to write, you will discover things about yourself you never imagined. Just believe in the process and begin.

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