The Process Sucks

Okay, since I announced that I am writing a book I haven't exactly been, um, writing. I love my idea. I love my characters. I love my world. It's the easiest thing in the world for me to plan out a story. As I've always had an overactive imagination, it's remarkably easy for me to create new realities and stuff. Some people probably think that I've been tiptoeing the line of sanity my whole life. Whenever I remember my dreams, they're never boring. I mean, my crazy imagination is the reason I get so damn into the various fandoms that I've gotten into--I fall into new worlds very easily. So y'all can understand that the planning of the book(s?), developing of the characters, and so on is great fun for me.

It's the writing that's the bitch. I forgot the horror that looking at a white screen with just a damn cursor creates. Especially when you've got so much to say, and you just don't know where to start. And it's just there blinking at you. Mocking you with it's metronome-like beats. And then you wonder if you've gotten in over your head, since this is the part that really matters. Who cares if you have an awesome story, if all you can do is stare at that cursor. So you write one line. Then two. You make the mistake of reading them. They're really bad. Who would read this garbage? So you erase it, taking each character away in a desperate attempt to win back your sanity. I know I can write. I know it's in me. You're too self-conscious now. What's a good way to introduce your main character? Waking up? No, no that's waaay too trite. How about through the eyes of other characters? No, that's just confusing when I start to tell the story from the character's POV. How about an inciting event that is the backdrop for the action, which will happen later? Eh, but where's my protagonist in all of this?

So, I take a break. I clear my head. I read. I'm exhausted. My arm hurts. No, concentrate! I manage to finally write some more, but I run into the same problems. I'm not even sure I know who this person is anymore. Why should readers care who in the hell he is, anyway? Why do I even want to do this? What am I trying to say anymore?

Hell with it. I took my laptop to Clarke's on Sunday, and I sat and wrote. That third person crap wasn't working, so I just rambled for about two pages from my protagonist's point of view regarding what he thinks of the world. And you know, that was the very first time that I got him. I actually understood what's driving him and how he sees himself. Not the most reliable narrator in the world, but there's nothing wrong with that. I finally saw what I needed to see. And no, he doesn't think like me. Not at all. His voice is more authoritative. More cocky and sure of himself. I don't necessarily share his views. But I like him, even though he's kind of a jerk. I think I'll write the story in his first-person point of view, as I've realized that it seems to be the easiest way for me. The hardest part is making sure he sounds like a guy all the time, since I'm not even going to pretend that I naturally understand how male minds work. But I can figure that part out easily enough.

Just got my second wind, guys. I'm officially excited about this again.