So me and writing: a rambleĀ byĀ me
I love writing. Iāve been attempting to tell stories all my life but wanting (needing!) to write doesnāt actually mean Iām any good at it. No please donāt worry, this isnāt one of those self-deprecating posts, itās just an observation.
Back starting 2015 really I tried toĀ āget seriousā about writing. It was a struggle but I was kinda doing it. In retrospect rediscovering fandom May 2016 helped I think because it gave me positive feelings about writing. I was doing writing that I wasnāt super stressed about. Anyway November 2016 life happened and I got overwhelmed and slowly stuttered to a stop.
Ever since in desperation Iāve done a bit here, and a bit there, but always with the litany of negativity. As I wasnāt doing much of any writing I felt all my writing should be original, or on my neglected WIP, as words were obviously at a premium, but the more I berated myself, the less I wrote at all.
aaaaannd then I started a university course English Literature WITH Creative Writing which was not very good timing. Writing was like pulling teeth anyway with the constantĀ āwho are you kidding? this is awful!ā kind of screaming at the back of my head. Now feedback is good, itās necessary to improve, so I know thereās a glass half-full way to look at it, but regardless it did feel a bit like a kick in the teeth to come bottom third of my year group.
Which brings me to today. At the start of summer break I set myself writing goals, which I have not even touched as everytime I went to do it (or even thought about doing it) I would cry because I just couldnāt, it was too much.
So what Iām going to do, what Iām going to try and do, is recapture that positivity and learn to love words again. I really fear for myself and my course if I donāt.
No limit writing. Just whatever comes, just do it.
Of course no limit writing has itās own problems because there is such a thing as too much choice but Iāll have to see how I get on.