As I've observed in several blogs of late, my muse seems to have retired. I mean, I have tried to write, even had some (what I thought) were pretty good ideas.
I have an Aunt Jane that I have written large chunks of, kind of an "Easter Parade" concept to go with the Carol Christmas Dickens takeoff. That has been on my main hard drive for at least four, maybe five computers. To give you an idea of how old the story is, one of Jane's hospital kids was complaining about A-Rod going to the Yankees instead of to the Red Sox, even though Nomar was his favorite player.
I have one I was trying to write for the most recent Christmas program about Jane bringing in a kid who has survived testicular cancer who cannot tolerate androgens so the only HRT possibility is estrogen based with the goal of giving him/her the tools to take on the world as Jane's protegee in skirts.
Couldn't see my way to finishing them. Couldn't see good endings and they continue to languish.
I even, when I was feeling particularly growl-some at the politics of the day, started a dystonian, post apocalypse story where the only 'cure' to deadly plague is penatrative sex from a carrier of the disease antigen. Yes, guys, too. Not kids, but not sure how that was gonna be handled. Maybe it is something people become non-resistant to at puberty. And this story REALLY sucked when it came to my Good-Tig-Keeping Seal of a Happy Ending rule.
Anyway, what has happened that has me reflecting on my recent and not so recent authorial failings? Before Homer happened - that's what. It got posted here and I reread it. (what, you mean I wrote that?)
And then, I followed the links to my listing of stories here and for some odd reason, started reading my Aunt Jane story, Ken's Barbie. and I'm flabbergasted. I am entertained by my own writing. Worse, I am intimidated by my own writing. I don't think I can write something like that anymore. I'm giggling at some of the situations I wrote (maybe it's because I don't remember the jokes, but still) and I am all but sure I don't have it in me to write anything funny now.
I've been rolling it around in my head all day today, since I realized that I was actually READING my story and not just REMEMBERING what I WROTE. There's a big difference.
Maybe that is why I haven't finished/posted anything in nine years. Dunno, but it is a little bit sad to realize how little I've actually gotten done in all that time. I have been writing erotica or genre fiction since I found my first modem based adult bbs (with my first 300 KBs modem). some of it was junk and some was something more, but writers write, and I'm not - not really. So I find myself trying to deal with the fact that I can't seem to write anything that satisfies me, but wanting/needing to keep trying.
Lord, but I HATE failing, though.
Sorry to vent, but it was just something I had to get out of me.
warm furry hugs
Tigger
Comments
I get that. I've not been
I get that. I've not been inspired to write poetry in years and when I go back and read them or see someone else read them I think, how in the hell did I write that. Besides the Seasons stories, Fornever in Blue Genes was a favorite and Change of direction actually is one of the first things I ever read.
If you write it
Your fans are surely waiting for more stories from you. So, if you write, it will be read.
RAMI
Write
I know several professional writers, people who make their living at the craft. Most of them agree, the cure for not being able to write is to write anyway. It doesn't have to be good, just doing something will get the juices flowing.
Of course, needing a payday is a great incentive. :) Us amateurs have a harder time of it.
Hugs,
Erin
= Give everyone the benefit of the doubt because certainty is a fragile thing that can be shattered by one overlooked fact.
I owe you a debt
because it was your Aunt Jane stories on Crystals site that got me to write and post my first pieces on that site. When I read those early pieces now I go
WTF? Did I really write that and post it? They are crap by the standards of what I write today.
I have lots of stories on my Laptop. Many are total bulls testicles and really should be erased.
Most don't have an ending. This is not a uncommon thing AFAIK.
I've had periods when my muse has gone walkabout. The longest one was more than a year.
I can normally get over it by trying to write, write anything. That often leads to a dead end. It did that last week but the idea behind the story is one worth having another go at so I am.
So, Tigger, keep on trying. As has been said, you have an Audience eager to consume your works warts and all. your recent post will have awakened the taste buds of many.
Don't go back to sleep, please.
Been there myself more than once
I remember doing creative writing when I was in school, but that was 30 years ago at least, I lost all of it at some point.
I didn't write much of anything again until 2004 and 2005, when I wrote twenty odd poems. I put my heart into all of them, some were so so, some were good, some were quite well liked in the few places I posted them, most of those places are long gone.
I still have the poems somewhere in the apartment, but I haven't the slightest clue where I should start looking for them.
I didn't write anything else until around 2008 or 2009, when I did the initial drafts of my story "Adam's Daughters". I didn't discover this site until 2014, and I posted the first part of that story in August of that year, followed by part two in August of 2016.
Since I posted that second part, I've shifted things around two or three times here and misplaced my handwritten copy. Since I don't know where that is, just like the poems, I can't post updates on that story at this point. It annoys me at times.
It was only at the beginning of December that things started rolling for me with respect to writing. In the last 2.5 months, I've posted 24 actual stories or parts of stories here. I'm amazed at how much and what I've written here. I haven't been able to write like this for over eleven years, and there's a pretty big difference between poems of a few verses and story parts with several thousand words.
In that time span, my word count has reached 62,369 just for the ten parts of Home, and 127,411 total. That means I've written just a slight bit more in all of my other stories combined than I did for Home alone. Sometimes I've been within a narrow margin of pulling my hair out because I'm trying to work out a part of a story and what I've initially typed didn't ring my bells, didn't fit what I wanted for that piece.
To be blunt, I had never written anything in my life as long as the prologue for No Place To Call Home. I know I've been out of school for 30 years now, but I can't recall ever writing anything in school beyond maybe 10k words, and that prologue is 24,229.
I'm in the midst of writing the second part of Rescue which will complete Melissa's initial story, it looks like it could hit 8k words before it's done, maybe even 10k. Once that's done, I'll be holding it back until I finish the second part of Step By Step, as the two stories briefly cross paths. Once both pieces are finished, they will be posted here; hopefully, I should finish them some time today or maybe Tuesday.
I think it's a common experience.
I was once a professional engineer, then I retired, but even when I was working I sometimes had to look back at things I'd designed years before and was amazed either how clever I was then or how stupid I'd become. That was even if I recalled the design in the first place.
My writing is very modest compared to yours anyway, but I've written a few short stories (not all TG) and edited a couple of limited circulation hobby/pastime magazines. I've occasionally looked back at articles and editorials I wrote and been impressed by my erudition :) Some of my stories aren't too bad either but neither were they particularly well received. At least they were written in an acceptable sub-set of English, which isn't always the case.
But now? Not a chance. I can proof read others' work and that's about it. I've either got more stupid (when I was a teenager I thought I knew how everything worked!) or more self aware. Perhaps a bit of both.
As Erin says. Just write. I watched a documentary about Terry Prachet last night on the BBC iPlayer. He started out as a journalist and commented that there was no such thing as so-called writer's block. He said when you had to write to a very tight deadline you just wrote. The only writer's block Prachet ever suffered was when he had his buggeration of early onset Altzeimer's and the words failed him and we were deprived of the wonderfully imaginative books he'd been churning out a huge rate for the readers' benefit.
Robi
Write!
Maybe something small to reignite with? Pick a supporting character from one of your many stories, and write 2000 words about him or her. I think a lot of us would love to see something new about a familiar character.
Like fools, we keep trying :)
Eido