Sometimes writing sucks. On some days every stroke of your pen or clack of your keyboard results in what can only charitably be described as crap. Crap. It happens.
And on other days magic spills out of your keyboard, and even the roughest of rough drafts are close to final. Again, it happens.
After a week or more of the former, today I am enjoying the latter. That’s not to say that every word I’m spinning is gold — it’s up to my editor on my current project to make that call — it’s to say that decent words are coming easily and without struggle. The process has been painless.
The last week, though? Horrid. I had to drag every last phrase out of me, each of them kicking and screaming and being completely unreasonable. You’d think I was trying to kill them. Okay, yes, writers DO kill their “babies,” which is to say their words, but that’s another discussion. My point is, this last week writing has been really freakin’ HARD. REALLY FREAKIN’ HARD.
Today, it’s been pretty easy.
But that’s writing, I guess. You can’t sit around and wait for inspiration. You have to sit down and do it, do it every day, do it even when you don’t want to. You have to learn how to MAKE it happen whether or not you’re feeling it.
Am I able to do that? I don’t know. I can put in the effort. Maybe my editor notices that I hate everything I’ve submitted this week. That means I can’t. Yet (because if I can’t now, I’ll learn to). And if he doesn’t? Well, then it’s just another sign that “waiting for inspiration” is the bullshit refuge of the amateur.