CONTACT ME:
Writing from Alter-Space
  • Home
    • Free Read: An Angel in the Mirror
  • Books
    • The Nightmarist and Other Stories
    • Exodus Sequence >
      • Wired
      • Reflected
      • Walked
      • Spooked
      • Suicided
      • Crashed
      • Woken
      • Experienced
      • Caged
      • Drowned
    • Exodus Sequence 2 >
      • Shattered
    • Fleet Quintet >
      • Transference
      • Flesh for Sale
      • V. Gomenzi
      • Commences
    • A Doorway into Ultra
    • Diamonds on the Moon
    • Clarendon House Anthologies
    • Microfiction
  • Blog

Third Confluence III

5/23/2015

0 Comments

 
Some days it doesn't go at all well.  The words don't come.  They don't string together well.  My mind just seems white.  My heroine even ended up depressed because she couldn't think - because I can't think.  Does the fault lie with my novel or with me?  Is the lack of exciting, helter-skelter plot uninspiring?  Am I not suited to write a thoughtful, philosophical romance?  And doesn't that sound so utterly dull?!  For the first time starting this novel (and I'm at least a third of the way), I'm having serious misgivings about the story itself.  If something is a struggle to write, then doesn't it follow that it's a struggle to read?  While I don't find it entirely boring to write, it isn't exactly exciting and that must surely mean it won't be exciting to read either.  I had so longed to write this novel.  The idea, when I had it, simply blew me away.  I was in ecstasies.  But now that I've come to execute it, it's crumbling into dust.  My hero is turning into every other hero I've ever written - tortured and silent.  I really am sick to death of putting myself on the page.  Why can't I BE someone else to WRITE someone else?  Why do I always have to be ME?  I long to be charming and captivating and wanted my hero to be charming and captivating too, which would then contrast nicely with his tortured soul, so to speak (dear god, this is turning into a string of cliches).  But there's no contrast.  You know from the first scene that he's tortured.  What's the bloody point, then?  The truth is I'm not a good enough writer to tackle this kind of subject.  And I simply can't imagine wanting to read anything this sensitive (or, at least, it's meant to be sensitive, but I think I've failed dismally with that too as I bludgeon my way through the characters' lack of expression).  These days the fashion is for high plot, high drama, much goings on, as much horror as possible, sex, violence and ludicrousness galore.  What am I doing?  I am at a very low ebb.  My tide has gone out and I'm not sure when it's going to come back.  To continue with this hackneyed analogy, I really could do with a tsunami of writing brilliance, something to rescue the direness of my creation and turn it into the magnificent work of art I originally conceived it as.  And if the phenomenal clumsiness of that last sentence is anything to go by, I should really learn to write.
Picture
0 Comments



Leave a Reply.

    Author

    I live in Bloomsbury.
    I write.
    Sometimes it goes quite well.

    ​

    FOLLOW
    You can follow
    Diary of a
    Bloomsbury Writer
     
    on ​
    ​wordpress.com
    where it's called
    Writing from
    ​Alter-Space

    ​​

    Archives

    June 2021
    May 2021
    April 2021
    March 2021
    February 2021
    January 2021
    December 2020
    November 2020
    October 2020
    September 2020
    August 2020
    July 2020
    June 2020
    May 2020
    April 2020
    March 2020
    February 2020
    January 2020
    December 2019
    November 2019
    October 2019
    August 2019
    July 2019
    June 2019
    May 2019
    April 2019
    March 2019
    February 2019
    January 2019
    December 2018
    November 2018
    October 2018
    August 2018
    July 2018
    June 2018
    May 2018
    March 2018
    February 2018
    January 2018
    December 2017
    October 2017
    September 2017
    August 2017
    July 2017
    May 2017
    April 2017
    March 2017
    February 2017
    January 2017
    December 2016
    November 2016
    October 2016
    September 2016
    May 2016
    April 2016
    February 2016
    January 2016
    December 2015
    November 2015
    October 2015
    September 2015
    August 2015
    July 2015
    June 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    March 2015
    February 2015

    Categories

    All
    Commences
    Everlast
    Lent
    Life
    Life In Bloomsbury
    My Coronavirus Diary
    New Novel
    On Editing
    On Publishing
    On Writing
    Review
    Second Draft
    The Difficult Novel
    The End
    Writing Tips

    RSS Feed

Powered by Create your own unique website with customizable templates.
Photos used under Creative Commons from Markus Trienke, eflon, Larry Smith2010, __MaRiNa__, elminium, InvictusOU812, PaulBalfe, Rina Pitucci (Tilling 67), ANBerlin [Ondré], Sumriana Babyana, stevecadman, Darling Starlings, Saku Takakusaki, Rubén Díaz Caviedes, Ric Capucho, aquigabo!, Key Foster, Mrs Airwolfhound, my little red suitcase, Joe Le Merou, freestock.ca ♡ dare to share beauty, bluebirdsandteapots, the bridge, Flower Power girl, Sharon & Nikki McCutcheon, chakchouka, archer10 (Dennis) 85M Views, this lyre lark, Secret Pilgrim, Hunky Punk, waaanderlust, takkle K, michaelmueller410, paweesit, Rick Camacho, Gidzy, J.J. Verhoef, Honza M., HDValentin, kthypryn, Pfauenauge *back to school...on and off*, diana_robinson, indigoMood, enrico.pighetti, Maria Eklind, timsackton, docoverachiever, Sharon & Nikki McCutcheon, bjpcorp, matty_gibbon, katya_alagich