Writing is so fucking hard

Honestly, why do I put myself through this over and over again? I have notes, I have a desk, I have child-free time. But all I want to do is drink tea and eat those blueberry muffins I made with Astrid this morning. The stupid thing is that actual writing is not as exhausting as sitting here psyching myself up to write. Actual writing is fun, challenging in its complexities at times, and at other times almost easy. But the getting started feels as though I’m dragging my sorry arse up a steep hill. I am sooo tired of that steep hill, which shall henceforth be known as Mount Doom. I have been in the foothills of Mount Doom numerous times–at least 20–and I would’ve thought by now that it would get easier. It doesn’t. And there’s no Sam here to help me carry my ring (ie. my arse; it wasn’t some turgid metaphor for the burden of my art {pronoucned “ahrt”}). I am so over this job. I am so going out to retrain in podiatry or something.

Right after I eat a muffin.

14 responses to “Writing is so fucking hard

  1. Retrain in book-keeping. Doing three months worth of accounts in the last week has me gagging for a chance to work on my novel. :)

  2. Hey Kim.
    Have you seen the film “Adaptation?” by Charlie Kaufman? Your comments on writing and muffins reminded me of my favourite set of lines from the film. If you haven’t seen it it’s well worth it just for that scene… although come to think of it, it is a film about a neurotic writer who is unable to start writing… I’ll leave it up to you whether that will be cathartic or more painful than it’s worth!

    L.

  3. In a selfish kinda way, hearing you say this made me feel so much better. Though I wish you didn’t feel so bad. I have struggled this past week and succumbed mostly to Lindt chocolate and power-naps, telling myself that either or preferably both will launch my creative side through the ceiling. Alas, it all just ends in foil and tears – and cellulite.

    The more I strayed from the page, the bigger my mountain grew-to the point where I could cry on cue at the sound of my Macbook powering up. I think the medical name is ‘reactive depression’. But today, the dark clouds parted and my muse shone down – all day. Today was a good day. And you are so write. The writing is fun. Its the journey to the page that I find so difficult some days.

    I thought of podiatry once. But really, smelly feet, big gnarly toenails and fallen arches? That’s a horror story in itself. Give me clean white sheets any-day – even if they are blank. Time to go work the chocolate muscle again…

  4. (((hugs))) Wow, Kim. So much angst! Just remember, even a teaspoon will level Mount Doom eventually. Take the pressure off, and write something for fun that you need never show to anyone.

  5. Hey, Kim. I’m feeling for ya. My husband always tells me that if I’m finding writing too hard, I should go and paint. Maybe you need a break, a sabbatical. You’ve worked damn hard for so many years – 20 books, bloody amazing! Maybe you should try writing some music or take up sketching, or photography or something creatively stimulating in a different way. But only for a while. Your story(ies) won’t go anywhere without you.

  6. …Or go for a walk / jog… I’m not saying you have to like it, but a post-exercise state ignites my creative zen and nothing seems like such a hassle.

    Failing that: the Lindt chocolate suggestion above is a goodie (the dark kind though – better than muffins for it’s mood-lifting abilities).

  7. Oh yes…

    Definitely dark- for medicinal purposes of course. The cocoa shell 70% Lindt Creations is almost worth getting writers block for.
    Health Warning: This product may be habit forming.
    Take as only directed. If symptoms persist – king hit your muse.

  8. I now have a chorus of “Kick Start My Ahrt” running through my head. If Nikki Sixx was dead, which he almost certainly should be with the state his system must be in, I’m sure he’d roll in his grave.

    As I’m sure you know much better than I, sitting around making stuff up all day can be lonely and depressing when it doesn’t work, but there’s no greater feeling in the world than when it does.

    Sometimes the blank page can be more forgiving than the blank screen and flickering cursor. Have you tried going back to basics (ie pen and paper) and seeing if that fills the pages any faster? Then at least you’ll have some raw material to work with or build on.

  9. have you never walked by a Terry White Pharmacy and seen those foot fungus posters? do they have those programs here where people take teen drink drivers to hospitals and morgues to show them victims of drunk driving? i think you need to go to a free foot clinic that’s sandwiched between an old folks’ home and the finish line of a marathon.

    i believe that you’re tired of that steep hill, but if it were easy, everyone would be a published writer.

    an anagram for mount doom is “mud to moon.” there you go.

  10. I know exactly what you mean. My typical moan is “if I put the same amount of time I put into writing into some other job I’d be powering (and surely would feel better than this)!”. Podiatry, though …. in pathology we did a fair bit of scraping fungus from under people’s toenails and sometimes when we clipped the nail back, especially if it was an old man’s thick yellow toenail, you know, the kinda hooked ones, the bit of nail would fly up and land in my hair … maybe writing isn’t so bad …..

  11. Oh Kim, I liked to kid myself that one day it would get easier, but then you go and write a post like this! :)

    I can’t figure out why it is that other people in other professions can take a day off guilt free, where as us writers make ourselves feel so guilty from time away from a WIP to the point that it can be near impossible to enjoy time away from it!

    But it always passes – hopefully for you it already has.

  12. It’s just funny cos my sister has just started her podiatry job. Sometimes I think about it too – they do get massive breaks to google at work when there are no patients. But then I decide there’s still time to find me a rich man instead…or finish my book for the millionth time.

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