I am always envious of those who can just write to write. I just can't will myself to do that some days. Some times I stare at the paper and no words even come to mind, blank. I dig deep and try to find something, anything, but there isn't. But out there, there are those who will put pen to paper and it doesn't matter if it's good, bad, or somewhere in between, they'll still write. I wonder if that's the key to successful writing? Of course there are those who never make it anywhere no matter how much they write, so there must be something more.
I can't say I only write when I'm inspired, though I'm particularly more prone to. Inspiration is a fickle thing and hardly reliable to draw upon. I like to take life experiences, not necessarily my own, and put that to paper, I find that I am most prolific when I do. Of course life has an infinite amount of experiences to choose from, though it doesn't yield to me an infinite amount of inspiration.
I'm sure others can relate to the feeling like they're in a quagmire, trudging through the creative writing abyss. The only thing that truly separates those who make it big and those who flounder into obscurity is perseverance; you'll never make it anywhere if you quit.
So I'm sitting here, kinda staring a blank paper searching inwards for something to put on it, looking longing at the game of Call of Duty I have open fighting the urge to just play instead, and occasionally reading some poems by Charles Bukowski (Sifting Through The Madness for the Word, the Line, the Way), which is currently one of my favorite books.
What I really need, or feel like I need, is someone to tell me what they think. I love being told that what I write is good, but, while the intention is honest and forthcoming, it feels shallow. I guess that's the writer in me. Don't just tell me it's good, tell me why it's good, tell me what made you feel that way, was it the words, the format, the topic, was I able to relate to something in your life, was it personable? I'll never be satisfied with just being good, anyone can be good, I want to be great.
And revisions. I've read that some people go through five, six, and more rough drafts of a poem before they are satisfied. I have never done that. Once I have finished it, it is done. I may change it when I go from paper to computer, but that in my mind is now a separate poem, there are two versions of the poem that exist now, not one final version. Take a look in my notebook and see. I also never throw anything away, my notebooks are collections of half-written pieces that may one day become fully fledged poems - they were never finished to begin with. It's nice to keep everything. It lets me look back and see the change in my writing, to see how different writers have influenced me greatly (I used to prefer stanzas and meters and rhyming in a consistent theme, but now I like a more post-modern approach, using rhyming to tie things together, but not forcing it). Look at Emily Dickinson and Charles Bukowski and you might see how much I favor them. I wonder and worry where the line between imitation and emulation is. Sometimes I feel I'm too much like one or another, but other times I know I'm just writing the way I enjoy writing. It's a silly thing to worry about, but it crosses my mind.
I think that's enough rambling for now, I should probably get back to writing.
No comments:
Post a Comment