Start writing...When does writer’s block become more than just “writer’s block”? For the past five years, it seems that writer’s block has consumed me. I’m eaten from within by my self-detrimental thoughts. What’s the point of writing? Who reads this? Why am I even writing this? Who am I kidding? I’m not a writer... There are better people out there.
Not once did I have a single one of these thoughts growing up. I was always encouraged to write what I want and about whatever I wanted. Everything changed in college. People made several comments...
You’re not right in the literary world. Those trashy novels are horrible. Who would want to make money from writing something so horrible? Why would anyone even read this? It didn’t make me think, there’s no deep meaning or tragic event, it needs to be more philosophical, it doesn’t have the right touch…
Yes, I didn’t belong. I was too abrupt and upfront with a lot of the materials. My mind couldn’t wrap itself around stories with no climax, conflict, or movement. They were devoid of any intriguing twists and turns or momentum. You had to be high or drunk to gain a “deeper meaning” of the story.
That’s not my cup of tea.
Those fun, trashy novels, exciting teen romances, and intriguing historical fictions were by far more interesting (in my personal opinion). They were my comfort, and I felt confident in writing those pieces. Even my poetry seemed to do well concerning historical fiction/nonfiction.
I felt as if I couldn’t write. What was the point? People weren’t going to read any of my material.
There were a few moments when my eyes were opened even more to the reality of the situation. After writing a piece on Mrs. Satan, a professor leaned back in his chair contemplatively. He rubbed his chin and reluctantly said, “Hmm, that was actually good. I want to know more.” Part of me felt a small wave of victory wash through me, but then the thoughts and realizations flooded in. Another time a professor congratulated me after hearing me present my written thesis. Well, it was part congratulations and part surprise. He told me, “Wow, I’m surprised you can actually write.” It’s not the best thing to hear knowing that you had numerous classes with that professor, and he thought you incapable the whole time.
Those experiences taught me a few things. Don’t write about what they tell you to write all the time. Write about your passions. Once you do, everything will fall into place. I was passionate about historical fiction (still am), but I had to gain the gumption to say, “fuck you,” to everyone else and write what I wanted. The struggle to get back into writing since college has become difficult, but there are new changes on the horizon.
Why do we have to write about what everyone else expects us to write about? Why not write those trashy novels? Why not write those words down that no one wants to hear? Those people make money. Why is it shameful to create an exciting, lucrative book? Yes, it’s not deep nor philosophical, but it entertains people. Isn’t that why people read? It’s to escape the horrible world. Dive into another realm where anything can happen. Be in a world where happy endings do come true. We read to learn, read to escape, and read for the sheer pleasure!
Yes, I may not be talented, but I damn sure try to do my best at what I love to do. From now on, I’m going to write about what I want, in the style I want, and the way I want. More people should do this and not feel the pressure of being judged for their written work or style of writing. Everyone has a voice. Each voice needs to be heard. Numerous untold stories have been locked away in a chest yearning to be written. Why not write those? Why not be supportive? We’re all here to help each other. We all have ideas. We can be constructive with our feedback instead of tearing each other down for writing in a different style or about a different topic than we prefer. Here’s to all of the writers and even non-writers. Be who you are. Don’t be afraid to write your thoughts down.