This is my Secret
Today I couldn't stop thinking about writing. You know, those books that I've never been able to really truly dedicate myself to in the past, mentioned in my last blog post. I kept thinking of ideas, and about how much I really did want to write, and how maybe I just finally needed to start.
So I went into this frenzy of scribbling character descriptions and story ideas and overarching themes, combining characters and worlds I'd come up with so that they intertwined with one another, and wondering whose story I wanted to tell first. All of it, at first, was very encouraging, until suddenly it wasn't encouraging at all, but just overwhelming and scary, and I just thought How the heck am I supposed to write a BOOK?? I mean a real actual complex fantasy book that isn't copying anyone else's, with at least several fleshed-out characters with well-thought-out intentions and voices and complicated relationships????? How am I supposed to create a whole world???
At that point I said to myself It's okay, you don't need to write your book now, you can just THINK about your book. When you're older and wiser and a better writer, THEN you can write it. When stuff "lines up inside of you," or whatever. You're only 20 after all.
But this evening I was just sitting in front of my lap top, and my dad asked me what I was doing, and I said "just reading stuff," and then for some reason I added: "I want start writing a book this summer." And when I said it, I realized that I do, desperately, want to write a book. I want to go all-in, immerse myself in the creation of this world, of these characters, and not just give up when it gets hard.
And my Dad said "good."
Then I opened Kristin Cashore's blog, and it was THIS post.
Now, Kristin Cashore was one of the people who I had been thinking of whose books were so unbelievably amazing and complex and well-mapped, the kind of book I wanted to write but didn't think I could. And she, my favorite author, who has written three incredible novels that have had huge success, is going through the exact thing I am going through. She had a day when she was frustrated and overwhelmed and she wondered why she even bothered starting. And she wrote:
"Everything will be okay.
For the moment, though, I'm giving up, because writing a book is pretty much the stupidest idea I ever had."
She said that it's okay to think, some days: "I truly don't understand why I ever thought writing a book was a good idea. BLECH BLECH BLECH. BOOKS ARE JUNK."
But tomorrow things may look better, or maybe the day after tomorrow, or the day after. And some of the stuff you'll write will horrify you, and other stuff you write will make you SO HAPPY. And that's all part of being a writer.
Which is what I want to be.
And hopefully this little moment of clarity will carry me through the inevitable upcoming moments of "WHO THE HECK THOUGHT I COULD WRITE A FREAKING BOOK."
p.s. this poorly written blog post is probably not going to convince anyone that I am ready to start a book.
So I went into this frenzy of scribbling character descriptions and story ideas and overarching themes, combining characters and worlds I'd come up with so that they intertwined with one another, and wondering whose story I wanted to tell first. All of it, at first, was very encouraging, until suddenly it wasn't encouraging at all, but just overwhelming and scary, and I just thought How the heck am I supposed to write a BOOK?? I mean a real actual complex fantasy book that isn't copying anyone else's, with at least several fleshed-out characters with well-thought-out intentions and voices and complicated relationships????? How am I supposed to create a whole world???
At that point I said to myself It's okay, you don't need to write your book now, you can just THINK about your book. When you're older and wiser and a better writer, THEN you can write it. When stuff "lines up inside of you," or whatever. You're only 20 after all.
But this evening I was just sitting in front of my lap top, and my dad asked me what I was doing, and I said "just reading stuff," and then for some reason I added: "I want start writing a book this summer." And when I said it, I realized that I do, desperately, want to write a book. I want to go all-in, immerse myself in the creation of this world, of these characters, and not just give up when it gets hard.
And my Dad said "good."
Then I opened Kristin Cashore's blog, and it was THIS post.
Now, Kristin Cashore was one of the people who I had been thinking of whose books were so unbelievably amazing and complex and well-mapped, the kind of book I wanted to write but didn't think I could. And she, my favorite author, who has written three incredible novels that have had huge success, is going through the exact thing I am going through. She had a day when she was frustrated and overwhelmed and she wondered why she even bothered starting. And she wrote:
"Everything will be okay.
For the moment, though, I'm giving up, because writing a book is pretty much the stupidest idea I ever had."
She said that it's okay to think, some days: "I truly don't understand why I ever thought writing a book was a good idea. BLECH BLECH BLECH. BOOKS ARE JUNK."
But tomorrow things may look better, or maybe the day after tomorrow, or the day after. And some of the stuff you'll write will horrify you, and other stuff you write will make you SO HAPPY. And that's all part of being a writer.
Which is what I want to be.
And hopefully this little moment of clarity will carry me through the inevitable upcoming moments of "WHO THE HECK THOUGHT I COULD WRITE A FREAKING BOOK."
p.s. this poorly written blog post is probably not going to convince anyone that I am ready to start a book.
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