The Madness of Writing

Some say Insanity is doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results.

That's what I do.

I sit, and I sit and I sit.

My fingers strike, and strike, and strike.

I expect different things to happen.

Orderliness melts into chaos around me, tea perpetually going cold. A bird might be nesting in my hair.

Brows come together in concentration, shoulders draw up. I arch, stretch, roll, get up and walk... yet... they bunch up again anyway. I'm a ball of... something. My focus inward, yet somehow, at the same time, spidering out into the world. Or worlds.

I've a fever, of sorts. Resembling a sick person with a cosy blanket round my shoulders; my hero cape. Aching, tired. I can live a lifetime before 4pm.

I indulge in this folly again, and again.

I'm mad enough to expect different results, and just crazy enough to see them, and so be content in my madness. I see romances bloom, and relationships stumble. Family trees sprout from under my fingertips. People, with entire backstories known only to me, are born into existence, or bleed out their lives. Secrets revealed, villains seethe, heroes overcome. The same things happen, over and over. On this side of the page and the other. To my addled and delighted mind? These tired, well trod things are bright and new.

I write, and write. Page after page. Oscillating between what must look like near-catatonic staring and frantic scribbling. Gripped in a frenzy, and daft enough to not want to be loosed from its toxic claws. I imagine that this time, surely, it will be different. This piece will resonate. This one will place. This one will sell. This one will tickle an agent's fancy. This one will be accepted by a publisher. This one I can let my family and friends read without cringing so hard I implode.

Another layer of madness, to write things you cannot bear to have read. To yearn to be seen, and still stay invisible.

Every Reader is only a breath away from being a Writer, too. Have you got a pen? Get some ink on your fingers, join us. We're all mad here.

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Word count (excluding note): 366

Submitted on 30th March at 17.38

*Quick Author's Note*

First, and most importantly: thank you for reading!

If you enjoyed this story, the best compliment you can give me is to share it, or read another.

A Year of Stories: I'm writing a story every day this year. This one makes an 90 day streak. I'm also putting them in my Index post.

This was written in response to RM Stockton's March Write Club Prompt.

If you'd like some more prompts to get your inky juices flowing, have a look at my prompts for April! These include my birthday indulgence: a Fucked Up Fairy Tales Unofficial Challenge, which I'll be posting more about soon 😁

Thank you

Thank you again! I do my best to reciprocate all reads. Leaving a comment makes that easier 😁