Writing is hard

When I was younger, I could bang out a 5-hundred word paragraph without thinking twice about it. I used to win competitions for cheesy poetry I wrote in 5 minutes (brag brag brag). Now, when I have to write something, I overthink it to the nth degree and I find myself getting stuck and despondent about it. The pen (computer keys) stick against my fingers and my mind clogs when I try to find ideas. I can hear the works jamming as if a spanner has been thrown in. The thought of being creative or funny is something of an impossibility. I read other bloggers and think to myself "How do they do it?" They seem so effortlessly talented, so naturally hilarious, so brilliantly poignant.



But if I consider my reactions now, versus what they used to be, to so many other things, it seems to have become something of a shocking trend. When I was 10, despite having a soul-chilling fear of heights (and, more significantly, depths) I would happily leap off a 5-metre diving board to prove to all and sundry that I wasn’t chicken (even though I've always found that an inappropriate slur. Chickens are not, by nature, at all timid)Big Bang Theory . Now, I make sure that I go to swimming pools without the temptation of proving myself (i.e. no diving boards). What if I break my neck? What if I jump and hit the water at a funny angle and sprain my ankle or tear a ligament? I used to walk all over the fairly rickety and unsafe roof over my grandmother’s house and play balancing games. Now, I wouldn’t dream of taking chances like that.


I was playing in the park the other day on one of those dare-devil merry-go-rounds. We used to swing those around until the world was a blur, climb off and laugh at how unable we were to walk in a straight line. Now, I was hesitant to have it go faster than a light haziness. (Interestingly enough, we don’t mind the dizziness from unnatural additives like wine and coffee, but heaven forbid a natural high likely to result in a small sprain).


Perhaps it’s now that we know consequences, and things about physics ("forces" and such-like). We know the result of a broken collarbone, the expense of a torn ligament or the black dizziness that sets in when something is seriously busted.


To a large extent that is how I feel about writing these days. No more do I leap blindly into text, allowing my imagination to take over and let the story write itself. Now I consider plot, and character and punctuation. I think about what the reader will be feeling when they read the story. I consider public reaction. I think too much, rather than feeling, and it has lead me to not be writing like I should be.


My next challenge? I’m writing a South African sci-fi short story. I shall valiantly attempt to write it like I would when I was a child. I shall endeavour to write for the sheer joy of the written word, rather than for any other motive. (I will make the greatest effort to not have my story sound like a valedictory speech).


Wish me luck!