I used to think a good writer meant that the words came easily to you. That you could just sit at your desk and type away for hours. Documenting the steam of consciousness of your characters with little thought of your own.
I think that’s why having so many unfinished musings always made me think I was lesser than those who had written volumes upon volumes.
I realize now, at nearly nineteen, that this notion is entirely bullshit.
I found writing to be easier when I was younger. The stories were less complicated. I told stories that were already in my head. Simple adventures, never more than three pages.
But making a story, that has turned out to be much harder. And that’s what I’m trying to do with my book. The plot is not totally clear. The lines are not black and white. The characters have many dimensions.
Because it’s not finished, it feels as if it will never be. I can’t write. It’s not writer’s block, because I know what I want to say. The idea is there, but the idea is not fully developed. Not ready to be plucked and put down on paper. It’s aggravating. Depressing. And stressful. Because it makes me feel that I’m a shit writer, because I can’t even do what we’re supposed to do, which is put words on paper.
It’s our job.
Tina stop using italics.
When you say “I’m a writer”. It’s a very general term. You can’t really pinpoint what makes a good one.
Is it having your well loved by the populous? Is it being able to stretch one idea into five volumes? Is it being ‘real’? Is it finishing your work? I think everyone has their own definitions of it.
I think practice makes a good writer.
I think passion does.
I think there are a lot of other things that play into it. So I can’t give you one simple answer.
I don’t really have any other update on my book right now besides the fact that I am trying. Because that’s all I really can do.