I’ve been struggling with writing since I graduated college. It is what I’m supposed to do. It is what I talk about in my blog posts. All I can seem to write are these blog posts. At times these are hard to write too. When I was learning to write in college, I wrote a lot of poetry. I found that I was pretty good at it. I had discovered a different part of myself. The other part of me that wants to write fiction is struggling.
I’ve always had ideas in my head of princesses and mermaids (I have an Ariel complex). I thought I was going to grow up to write fantasy stories. It is what I’ve always daydreamed about. Now that I have time to write, I’m struggling to come up with more ideas.
Because of quarantine I’m out of a job and I have lots of free time. I was procrastinating. I was avoiding writing. I’m scared. I’m not very secure in my writing. This is what my career is supposed to be so if I mess it up then what will I do?
I have to let it go. I have to let all of my doubt go and just write. Make time out of my oh so busy schedule to write. And, I did.
I sat down in my new bed with a cup of coffee, my dog lying next to me, blasting my writing music, a Sylvia Path poetry collection for inspiration, and some paper and pencil.
Guess what? I wrote. I wrote 4 new poems within minutes. Amazing! The first one was a little depressing but after I got some of my bottled-up emotions out then I could write! I didn’t care what I was writing. I just wanted to write something, and I did. It felt good. If I really feel proud of it, I might post one of the poems here.
The only other problem is that I tried to write a story and I couldn’t. I wrote one paragraph and blanked. I’m probably still putting too much pressure on myself to be amazing at the stories. BUT! I’m making progress and that’s all that matters.