The Second Post (or, "On Writing")

I'm having a hard time finding the right environment for writing.

Sometimes, my room suffices. Others, it's too small, cramped, claustrophobic, cluttered, dark... essentially, just no good. Sometimes, I'll write outside, using pen and paper (I've tried moving my entire PC to the backyard deck; it doesn't work); others, though admittedly not for a while, the loud clacking of my electronic typewriter is just the thing. I have notebooks up to my gills, note pads, and sometimes, I'll sketch to get the juices flowing. Outline. Don't outline. Maps. No maps. Write scenes where your characters meet at a coffee shop, using only dialogue, to get a better grip on their unique idiosyncrasies. I can never find a system I'm happy with for long.

Sometimes, I think Writer's Block is a weakness of the mind; others, it's as insurmountable as Everest (for me; yes, Everest has been summited, but let's get real: it'll never be done by me). Sometimes, my mood is such that nothing can deter me; others, I get in funks so deep writing doesn't even make sense, let alone feel like a genuine pursuit. I snap out of it. I always do. But those are hours, or even days, lost during which I could have produced something. Maybe not something great, or even something that would have lasted ("kill your darlings" says Stephen King, meaning you should never fall so in love with a word, a phrase, a whole passage or chapter that you can't afford to cut it if necessary), but something, nonetheless.

The story evolves. Originally, it was about Ethan, a magical boy who has to get himself home. The main milieu, Voyoo, was a medieval kingdom, the likes of which you've seen a dozen times in fantasy story. Also, he was a vampire. (That didn't last long). I'm happy with where the story has gone, and I'm eager to see where it will lead, but sometimes I fear I'll never be satisfied with what I have, that the story will continue to evolve, ever changing, never settling long enough to stay a single book. This, my greatest fear. I'll never stop writing it, because it'll never be done.

Well.

That's enough for now, I suppose.

I should probably get to writing.

-- Cris