So, I picked up a magazine at Barnes & Noble’s last week called “Writing Basics”, which contains tips and pointers for aspiring writers such as myself who are having a tough time with both writing and motivation. One of things they have in there is writing prompts for everyr week for the next year. I plan to complete all the prompts from the magazine up here on my blog starting with this weeks writing prompt, a break-up letter to writer’s block.
Dear Writer’s Block,
It’s not you, it’s me. For years now we’ve been in pretty close contact, mainly me thinking you had more control over my writing process than you actually possess. I feel stifled and aloof when I’m writing, ideas not flowing correctly, horrible sentence structure, words that won’t flow correctly, plots that have no structure, horrible character development (if any), etc. In middle/high school, we didn’t talk that much, it was only a few years after I graduated that you seemed to pop into my life the most frequently I let you in, and that’s my fault. Most good ideas I’ve had for a story that I’ve started have been stymied by your dehabiliting precense overwhelming my thought process mid-way through. I’ve come up with some really good ideas too, but you always make me feel like I don’t have any. In my dreams, I come up with some very intriguing story ideas, so I know there is a wellspring of creativity in me that you have not completely dried up (if even dried up any at all). I want you to know that the past few years of work that I’ve lost to you I’m going to gain back and it starts with this letter. I am going to hone my craft to the absolute best of my ability, you will no longer be a part of my life. I am not sorry to see you go, you useless parasite. When I’m at my best, I’m damn good, I don’t need you to make me feel as though that’s not the case. It’s been a rough patch that’s been in need of smoothing over for quite a while. There has been quite the lifestyle change over the past year since I migrated to Wisconsin. I don’t have as much of the baggage I once did, the baggage that helped you dehablitate me. I’ve let go of most of that and you’re next on the list. Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.
Leave a comment
No comments yet.