The universe inside my head is infinitely larger than the one outside. Sometimes I feel downright overwhelmed by everything going on in there. Being a writer I constantly feel driven to get all these thoughts and ideas out on paper.
This may sound like a groovy way of life. However, I continuously find it frustrating.
I don’t feel like I have the ability to express myself. No matter how much I write and rewrite, my words pale in comparison to the vivid world that I want to share with people. Every sentence I write seems weak and pointless. No matter how many words I know, I never seem to have the vocabulary I need to project my thoughts effectively. I get these ideas, and I get so excited about them that I get restless and have trouble concentrating on anything else, and I get irritable with anyone or anything that distracts me from thinking. But then when I go to write, everything just fizzles out like rain on a fire.
I think the biggest problem is that I don’t think in words, I think in images. I don’t think, “The girl walked down the street.” I see a moving image of a girl walking down a street, as detailed and complete as if I were standing there watching her. I see her face, her hair, her clothes, the street, the houses, the trees, the weeds growing thru the cracks in the sidewalk, I hear her voice and the sound of cars driving by and birds chirping in the trees. My stories don’t form in my head as words. It’s like watching a movie playing in my mind. I just can’t seem to translate the images into words. Do all writers do this? Or is it just me? Or do I just suck that much?
Sometimes I wonder if I should try a more visual medium, like film. But that still requires writing a script, which I know nothing about, and making a film, which I don’t know how to do, or have the means to finance. Or perhaps a graphic novel. I used to draw very well, however I know nothing about creating commercial/graphic arts.
I do know how to write tho. I do. I’ve done it. I’ve written very good stuff. Sometimes I read over what I’ve written and every word seems perfect, every description and piece of dialogue portrays exactly what I want the reader to see and feel. I just feel like those moments are so few and far between. 99% of the time I feel like I’m just banging my head against a brick wall when I sit down to write. When I was younger I would write until I passed out, altho for all the quantity, I dunno if the quality was as good. I think I am a better writer now, even if I can’t write as much.
But sometimes I think I would trade the quality to be able to feel like that again, even for just a few days, to feel that endless, tireless flow of words. I was much less of a perfectionist, the OCD hadn’t taken hold yet. I didn’t agonize over every word. I just wrote, and whatever came out was good enough. I knew I could always go back and edit later. Now it takes me half an hour just to write a status update on Facebook. And, yes, the reason I only post on my blog once a week is because weekends are the only days I have enough time for all the writing and rewriting a do just to create a simple blog post. It’s currently Sunday at 11pm. It took me three hours to write this. I will schedule this to post tomorrow during the day tho, when it will hopefully get more traffic then it will late on a Sunday night.
I spoze some people might read my blog and think, wow, if this is any indication of her writing skill, no wonder she is failing as a writer. But no, what you read here is similar to what you would hear if you were talking to me in person. Altho here I can edit. Unfortunately there is no such ability to filter the things that come out of my mouth sometimes (Saggitarians aren’t exactly known for their tact). My writing is much different. It’s still me, but its different.