Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Cracked, and Writing is Despair - when it's not elation

I was doing my morning's routine of reading comics, then blogs. Science, philosophy; and there's a few writing ones I like to follow. Though for writing I mostly use Twitter - a random idea jumps out and says "Here! This is what you've been needing to think about!" For which I am truly, truly grateful.

Anyways, on one of the philosophy blogs I followed a link and discovered that  the book I've been working one for the last year is, apparently, a cheap flimsy watered-down version of the sort of novels some very famous (in the right circles) (which I obviously don't inhabit)  (which is another point of despair) person has been writing for many years now.

All my hundreds of hours of research, my hundreds of hours of writing, my in progress hundreds of hours of editing - for what?

And I am sunk once again in inescapable gloom.

What's the point? I know I am not unique, that no one is unique, that every story has been told thousands of thousand of times... but I was feeling pretty good about my book up to that moment.

I used to be a very stable person. Not without upheavals, but generally rational, reasonable, and not prone to gloom.

Since becoming a writer, my life is the proverbial roller-coaster. And not with slow steady swings from elation to despair.

Oh no. That would be too easy. Like a toddler with a light switch my brain leaps from extreme to extreme, within the same bleeding sentence.

So then I find this:

I don't know how I hadn't seen it before. Cracked is a wonderful place for researched information in a quirky, irreverent style.

Being able to laugh, even though being reminded yet again (and I didn't need the reminder - I never forget) that I am not in the tiniest bit unique, made me feel better.

And I will write today. How could I not? It is who I am, for good or ill.

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