The Critic Speaks Again

Without really being aware of it, I've been indulging the unhappy voices in my head recently. They say things like, "You haven't been writing recently," and "When are you going to write that nifty sci-fi short story you sketched out?" Though it's really no excuse, my mood has been pretty much tanked recently. The voices get louder at those times, making points I don't want to hear. "You think anybody wants to read what you wrote? Get real!" "You'll never be a real writer. You blow off your writing all the time. No sense of commitment."

Writing them down here, I recognise these sentiments as having come from my Critic, who gets her panties in a knot whenever my mood takes a tumble, and at other times as well. Sometimes the things I want to do, or even those I need to do, seem like insurmountable obstacles, mountains of my mind that dwarf even the highest real mountains in the world. I stand at the base, staring up, up, up. No matter how much I squint, I can't see the top. The peak, if it's visible at all from where I am, is veiled by my own personal overcast sky.

And what's at the top? I read in a writing book once that publishing, which one might think is the ultimate goal for a writer, does not mark the end of a writer's struggle. It's not the gold at the end of the rainbow and it doesn't make a writer's life suddenly a life of ease.

So what, then, is the point of struggling here at the keyboard? If publishing isn't the goal, what is? It's probably different for everyone. My goals in writing are to get stories out of my head (even if The Critic says they're crap), share them with people and in doing so entertain, enlighten, or move someone, and, I must admit, get some kind of acknowledgement from whatever audience I may have. Money is nice, but the prospect of affecting someone's life, even if it's only to make them smile for a moment, is really more important to me.

And I've accomplished the first of my writing goals for today, which is to finally get back to this blog again. Hope your creative (and non-creative!) endeavours are going well today.

Slow Morning

It's one of those mornings. The past week has been busy, full of stress, unwanted tasks, and general blech. There's been good news and bad news, both of which are stressful. And I'm hung up on the fact I just used a form of the word 'stress' twice in a row, and my Inner Critic won't let it go. Watch me walk away from the now thrice-used word, waving farewell to my Inner Critic as she stands there, fists on hips, pouting and steaming from the ears, cartoonlike. Ha, I ignore you. I am too tired this morning, my mind too full of cobwebs to worry about a little thing like that.

Someone needs a hug.

Not that I should let my standards drop, I think, as the Critic pounces on that phrase (which I erased once before remembering I'm defiant this morning), crying, "Yeah, like your 'standards' are worth upholding, you hack!' Now that I've started writing something, the Critic has decided she's been neglecting me these past few weeks and is lighting into me something fierce.

That's okay. As I said, I have too much brain fog to really register a lot of the Critic's abuse just at the moment. I'm thinking of the cat on my wallpaper, of the phone calls (ugh) I have to make today, of the fact I've not gotten started on any articles like I've been planning to do for a long time.

Okay, now that's a downward spiral. I suppose I should end this ramble right here, in the hope that it's not a complete waste of time/bandwidth/pixels and that someone gets something out of it, even if that something is that I am a very odd duck.

Video Thursday: Ten Rules of Life

I realised I haven't featured the videos of the wonderful willowing here yet. I discovered her YouTube videos last year and she's been responsible for some personal insights as well as the purchase of a lot of art materials (that I otherwise wouldn't have tried out). Willowing is a carefree, creative, loving artist whose videos never fail to inspire me or boost my self-esteem. Because, as I've said here, it's okay to make crappy art/writing/etc. The point is to do it. If it feels good moving through you, it doesn't matter if The World thinks it's good. Anybody who'd come right out and tell you your work sucks isn't worth your time anyhow. So there.



I think I might do some art today. It's been a while. I should crack out the watercolour crayons and have some fun. Why don't you give your artistic side a few minutes to play today? Sketch, doodle, paint if you have the time. Just grab some crayons and go to town. Boss being annoying? Pick up some crayons and draw what a big goofy-head s/he is. At home. Where it's safe. Traffic evil? Draw a satellite blowing up all the speeders and lane-jumpers and tailgaters. Bzz-B-DAM! Behold my crappy five-minute Gimp sketch! Imagine what fun you can have with real crayons (I can smell them in my mind... mmm, crayons...) and paper! You could even colour in the cars, which I neglected to do. You have the power. Use it today!

In Which I Try To Find A Topic

It's a late morning, my tea is now gone and I don't know what to write about. It appears I owe at least one blog post for this week, though, so here I am. I haven't quite completed (read: actually started on) my topics list for the blog, so I frequently find myself sitting here staring at the screen, the wall, out the window, or grabbing one of my writing books, like Lawrence Block's "Telling Lies For Fun & Profit" and flipping through it for five, ten, fifteen minutes, ending up no closer to a topic for today than when I'd started.

I suppose the lack of ability to find a decent topic is as good a topic as any, given that this is a writing blog. At the risk of writing something so achingly boring and unreadable as to drive my readers away, I will attempt to write about this topic.

I've written about the fear and frustration of facing the blank page. I've written about procrastination. I've written about Monkey Mind. I seem to have a mix of them today. I'm tired and I keep meandering off to look at my email or ponder my previous posts here or worry about having a backup copy of my blog. All instead of writing in here. And now it's getting on to lunchtime and I'm still feeling pretty empty of content.

All this stuff usually gets pushed aside once I get going, but I'm having trouble hitting that mark today. I keep thinking of things I'd rather be doing than sitting here typing out a so-called blog entry for today. A blog entry, says my eager Critic, that has no substance and is useless and dumb and why don't I just save the file as daily writing blah and give the blog a miss for today?

Well, Critic, whether or not this post is full of blah or awesome, I missed a post yesterday and I'll be making up Video Thursday tomorrow (presuming I can find something good to post for that!), and whether or not I've actually got readers who are reading this blog and wondering where my posts have gone, I feel like I need to post something. Could be this is the boringest post evar. Probably. But it's early days, as for the life of this blog, and I feel it safe enough to have an occasional 'whut?' post.

I've reached four hundred words, which is generally my minimum length for a blog post here. I don't want to spam people, but I want there to be enough that my readers feel like they've actually read something.

And hey, readers? Hate to beg for interaction, here, but I'd love to hear from you guys. Post a comment, vote in the little silly poll I stuck up, click a rating at the end of a post, email me directly if you like. I've had a couple emails from irregular readers and those who read mostly via RSS feed, but I'd like to know if I'm talking to myself here. Thanks.

Crossed the five hundred mark, so it must be time to meander off to something else. This week's been a bit of a bear; next week will be a better blogging week, I'm certain. Until next time.