What Makes Writing A Hell
Finishing a novel. Sounds easy, right? Sure. Just as easy as pulling out someone’s teeth when you’re not a dentist. Well, maybe it is easier if you don’t know what you’re doing, but that’s definitely not the case when you’re writing. Your characters will punch you in the face. It’s not just the plot that has to be good and tied up in a neat little bow at the end. It’s also the characters that have to be realistic, the language needs to fit the story and be captivating enough to hold the reader’s attention. Not to mention, there have to be stakes high enough to reach the ceiling. Maybe pulling out someone’s teeth is easier. So why do we willingly take strolls through this blazing field of fire?
Writing Isn’t A Choice
Unless you’ve never attempted to put word to paper, you know it’s difficult. That doesn’t make us stop, though, does it? Writing isn’t just in our blood, it’s in our souls. Honestly, if someone paid me to stop writing, I wouldn’t accept it. It’s a passion, a calling, a lifestyle. Hell, even IF it was a choice, I’d choose it every single time.
Being Good Enough
Once you’ve embraced the Dark Side and proudly accept your part as a phantom that never leaves the house and burrows themselves in a palace of paper and pencils, comes the next hard part. You thought writing was the only hard part? Did you? HAHAHAHAHA. That’s so cute. No. Up next comes the part where you question every. single. word. you. write. Is that enough full stops? Yeah. OR IS IT. See, I’m doing it even now.
Voices Outside Your Head
In addition, if you think the voices in your head are mean, let someone else read your work. Feedback is so important. I honestly can’t stress that enough. However, that doesn’t mean that it is easy. It’s necessary, just like the urge to finish that novel, or you questioning yourself. But it’s not exactly a date with Johnny Depp while he’s covered in hot chocolate, giving you loads of awesome books.
So Then, Why?
It seems that grabbing a quill leads to despair and horror, much like having your teeth pulled by someone who’s not a dentist. So why jump through all these rings of fire? Again, I couldn’t even stop if I wanted to, but those fleeting moments of questioning myself are normal. They make me a better writer. What doesn’t kill you with laser beams makes you stronger, right? It sure as hell doesn’t mean that I won’t make it. After all, pressure makes diamonds.