Tenku
01-21-2005, 09:20 PM
Guess what? Another monolouge.
I'm writing at a fair pace on my stationary paper, maybe 30 words a minute. That doesn't sound grand, I know, but this is on paper. It kinda looks like chicken scratch if you ask me. But slowly, over the time... my words become scratched out or scribbled indistinctly, my thoughts are scrambled, and I grow frustrated.
Suddenly, I realize I could not write another word. I lay my pen down on my notebook and sigh. I basically have a brick wall staring down at me, threatening to topple over me at any minute.
There's two options. One, try to make something up that you just know that could work, but not quite there in order to say "Well, at least I have something down," and go ahead and start again. I use this tactic when I have a event that I just want get over with. (or too impatient to write the leading to...) Don't use the lead up in the final draft, or else it's not gonna be pretty...
Or two, the easiest but most cowardly act, scrap it. Yeah, I know some of you do this on a regular basis, saying that it doesn't make sense or you just f'ed up. Believe me, this happens all the time. If I happen to scrap my draft, I often keep the paper. For me, it just provides some ideas; like if I had a great one and tie it to something else, I'll just transfer it to the paper and viola, I have something.
Of course, there's that hidden option, and it's the most used for me. Just walk away. Take a long break, go for a walk, play video games, sit on the thinking chair for a while. You may laugh, but my dad told me you can have great ideas sittin' on the can. I may try that someday.
It's been a week since I written a word. My sketchbook is partially filledof things, a pair of eyes (I'm proud of managing to draw Rowan's eyes since he has heterochromia (http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/imagepages/17220.htm)...drew his left eye a bit darker than I wanted and erased it... loo, what great results!) two swords and a hallway with a grenade on the floor.
I open my notebook and fish out my black ink pen and open the book to the back of my written page. I sigh again. I think I'm ready to write again.
I open my notebook and I hear the brickwall crumbling in my mind.
I'm writing at a fair pace on my stationary paper, maybe 30 words a minute. That doesn't sound grand, I know, but this is on paper. It kinda looks like chicken scratch if you ask me. But slowly, over the time... my words become scratched out or scribbled indistinctly, my thoughts are scrambled, and I grow frustrated.
Suddenly, I realize I could not write another word. I lay my pen down on my notebook and sigh. I basically have a brick wall staring down at me, threatening to topple over me at any minute.
There's two options. One, try to make something up that you just know that could work, but not quite there in order to say "Well, at least I have something down," and go ahead and start again. I use this tactic when I have a event that I just want get over with. (or too impatient to write the leading to...) Don't use the lead up in the final draft, or else it's not gonna be pretty...
Or two, the easiest but most cowardly act, scrap it. Yeah, I know some of you do this on a regular basis, saying that it doesn't make sense or you just f'ed up. Believe me, this happens all the time. If I happen to scrap my draft, I often keep the paper. For me, it just provides some ideas; like if I had a great one and tie it to something else, I'll just transfer it to the paper and viola, I have something.
Of course, there's that hidden option, and it's the most used for me. Just walk away. Take a long break, go for a walk, play video games, sit on the thinking chair for a while. You may laugh, but my dad told me you can have great ideas sittin' on the can. I may try that someday.
It's been a week since I written a word. My sketchbook is partially filledof things, a pair of eyes (I'm proud of managing to draw Rowan's eyes since he has heterochromia (http://www.nlm.nih.gov/medlineplus/ency/imagepages/17220.htm)...drew his left eye a bit darker than I wanted and erased it... loo, what great results!) two swords and a hallway with a grenade on the floor.
I open my notebook and fish out my black ink pen and open the book to the back of my written page. I sigh again. I think I'm ready to write again.
I open my notebook and I hear the brickwall crumbling in my mind.