Alright, so instead of my usual shin-dig of criticizing something, or ranting about something, I decided to do something a bit different today. The other day, I was getting annoyed with my writing (while writing in my journal), so I hopped on my laptop and started ranting. Writing in a kind of digital journal mode. Here's an excerpt from my ranting. Enjoy :D
You see, when you’re faced with the prospect of writing down
a day’s worth of what you’ve done, a bunch of complete crap manages to include
itself. But, I have more depth than just a simple, “I ate breakfast, dinner,
but oh, I skipped lunch,” kind of deal. I have these thoughts, which just force
themselves out of my head. Occasionally, they are forced onto paper, and I do manage to not sound like an insipid
ten year old. But usually, they like to stay to the back recesses of my mind,
where no one has ever gone. And what’s the point of that?
So here I am, trying to not
sound like your average dimwit. I don’t think it’s working. I don’t exactly
know what it is, but when it comes to writing, I am a perfectionist. If I ever
read through any of my older works, or even my past journals, I have the urge
to edit—whether it be taking out that multi-colored pen and attacking the
paper, or hastily backspacing on my laptop. Fun. (Note the sarcasm).
Interesting, isn’t it? I like to write—no, love to write—and I find the urge to
edit…but when it comes to the editing, I hate to do it. It’s almost as if my
fingers force me to edit, and I have no choice, no matter how lazy I am, or how
exhausted I feel.
I actually think that may be a good thing. After all, being
the perfectionist can often give you great rewards in the end, right? Well,
maybe not. But it certainly makes me feel proud when I’ve finished a work of
writing, and edited it to perfection.
It also makes me feel better that I can’t be ashamed of what I’ve written.
I think every writer has that moment of weakness. Whether it
be the second before they are ready to click the mouse to the words “upload” on
a writing website, or if they are far ahead and it is the day before their book
hits the public. Either way, that moment of weakness has always been a fault of
mine. The one novel that I have, the one ‘baby’ of mine, as I so affectionately
call it, it has been through a lot. In the past three and a half years, since
it first birthed itself in my brain—now that I look back at that sentence that
sounds quite disturbing—but anyways. When I first thought of the idea, of
course I penned it down. I wrote more than just a bloody twenty pages, I’m
sure. And then, on a sudden urge to edit it—I scrapped it and started over.
Even as I type these words I find the urge to go back and
add a sentence or two, just to make myself clearer. I’m going to have to
restrain myself.
But continuing with this novel of mine, that wasn’t the last
time I scrapped it completely. No, I’m afraid the novel had four
beginnings—yes, I scrapped it three times. Currently I’m on my third—or is it
fourth?—rewrite of the novel, and I’m hoping to make it to the end this time.
You see, every single time that I’ve scrapped it, it has been because it was
beyond the point where editing could save it. And so, for that reason, I never
made it to the end. And boy, this end I’ve been waiting for, for a long time.
You see, it is one of those endings, which just encourage a writer to keep
writing and writing, because it just sounds so good. And mine? It has the twist
of irony that makes me want to laugh and cry at the same time—because although
it is one of the greatest endings that someone as menial as I could think of, it creates this one
problem (or blessing, if you think of it that way): it requires a sequel be
written.
Now keep in mind, I have no issues with that actual fact, I
love this story. But with the amount of time it has taken to get this far with
this one book, I can’t help but
wonder if the second book will follow in its footsteps. Of course, many
circumstances have changed[...]* But writing always grows, and I’m sure I haven’t reached my
complete potential…or I hope so at least. But that’s just being positive. And
then, there’s always the pressure that is put on an author—or really, the
pressure an author puts on him/herself. To make sure the sequel isn’t
categorized into the “Oh, the first one was good, but the sequel just brought
it down.” Many great authors have been subject to that.
Take Cornelia Funke,
and the Inkheart Trilogy. All her fans stayed with her through all three books,
simply to know the fate of the beloved (or not so beloved) characters. But I
think we all knew that the moment the second book arrived, it just wasn’t as
good as the first. And the third book? No, just no. And there is the perfect
example. She is an amazing writer, of course, but since such an amazing writer
managed to fall into the sequel curse, how could a not as good writer avoid it?
Point said, and done.
However, for now I will just return to my goal of finishing
my novel, and hope that it wasn’t the most stupid thing I’ve ever written.
*Sentence removed.
Yeah, I did remove a sentence...but that's just random. So that's my excerpt. I'm pretty positive no one reading this enjoyed it. But who cares?
And also, I have nothing against Cornelia Funke! She is a great writer! I was just a tad disappointed by the follow ups to "Inkheart."
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