If you think writing a book is easy, you’ve never tried. Or, if it is easy for you, than be grateful, very grateful!
I have been struggling for two months. Not one word written. I have two stories started, one with 10,000 words and one with 3,000 words, but I could NOT add to either. My poor husband has been a rock, putting up with moodiness, tears, and a few tantrums. And then today, he unwittingly lit the match that set fire to the whole dry period.
He is the controller of the remote in our house. Period. Mostly because I have never taken the time to learn how to work the darn thing. Anyway, he is the one who peruses the choices available to us and, for the most part, picks what movies we will watch. Today he chose one that both of us had chosen to pass over several times, for whatever reason. (He’s a big believer in “things happen for a reason”, and feels there was divine intervention in today’s choice, and who am I to argue?).
Today we watched “Finding Forrester”, with Sean Connery. There was one line in the whole movie that smacked both of us in the face. Sean Connery, as Forrester, asks a simple question.
“Why are the words we write for ourselves so much better than the ones we write for others?”
BOOM! We looked at each other and I burst into tears. I have been trying to write for others. Publishers, editors, possible future readers, etc. Not that any of those are to blame for my drought, the blame is all mine. I started thinking about my “future” career and stopped thinking about the things close to my heart. The things I know. The things that evoke happiness and pain, curiosity and adventure, satisfaction and a sense of accomplishment in my heart.
I was truly afraid that there would be no book number three for me. I mean truly afraid, as in I have not been able to sleep, eating too many carbs for comfort, feeling damn sorry for myself, afraid!
But just sitting here looking at the words as they appear on my screen tells me it is going to be okay. I am a writer, and I will have book number three, and Lord willing four, and five, and twenty!
So. If you’ve ever thought you might want to write a book, go on, try it. Hopefully it will give you the same sense of joy and accomplishment I have felt, and will continue to feel for many years to come, Lord willing. But be prepared for mountains of self-doubt to climb, and rivers of tears to cross, because being a writer exposes your inner self to the world, and that can be very painful. But the joy of holding that finished product in your hand is indescribable. Or reading a review on Amazon and knowing that your story, that book that you wrote, has touched another person’s heart.
Anyway, I’m a story teller. I am a writer, so I will write.