Writers block and its terrible influence

So, here I sit at my computer, fingers on keyboard with a thousand thoughts rushing around my head.  As my fingers hit the keys nothing appears on the screen, and I wonder if I am doing something wrong.  I check that my brain is communicating with my fingers correctly by scratching my nose; all good.  I check that my keyboard is working by going onto Google, using my mouse to navigate to the text box and typing “Cats”, then pressing search.  After spending thirty-five minutes scrolling through cats of various shapes and sizes I realise where I started off from, went back to my writing folder and opened up one of my documents regarding my book.  Again I did the same thing I had done for twenty minutes earlier on in the evening.  This has been going on for days now and I cannot seem to get over it.

The frustrating part is; the story I have in my head, partially written down both electronically and physically, is a gripping, driven story that should entertain readers.  I read somewhere that if a story doesn’t keep your interest, how do you expect to keep your readers interest, so I created a story that is interesting.  I am unsure how it will end (further down the line), which excites me, but that dreaded wall.  The huge, cold war era thing, built out of colourless, degrading concrete, built on iron rods of oppression.  The wall always has that smell of old, moist carpet whenever you get near it and is covered in graffiti by the gang “Write Off”.  Words like “Stop” and “Can’t” cover the wall and rather than break through it, you feel better taking those few steps back and wait for the day you can just break through it in one swing.  Some days I come at that wall armed with a JCB, a handful of TNT and all the time in the world.  Most days though, I can only manage to bring a standard hammer and twenty minutes, and that’s just not worth the effort.  Some people will say “Why are you bothering then?  If you can’t find the “effort” to write, your not a writer.” and, at times, I would be forced to agree with them.  I sometimes don’t feel I am worthy of being a writer, considering some of the pieces of writing I have read in the past, authors of legend that I can never hope to be displayed with or stand next to as an equal.  That though is the point, some authors who I have read that don’t write well at all, they have no emotion or understanding of the subject they write about.  That gives me hope, hope that one day I can write, be published and have something that came from my mind to share with people and, maybe, make it my new career.

Now anyone that knows me, understands that I do this from time to time.  I find a hobby, get so engrossed that I seem like its the best thing in the world ever and, like Jonathan Smith I’d head off down the highway to my next adventure.  However writing is something I have always had a passion for, especially if you have ever read anything I’ve ever seriously written.  Whenever I write about something I am passionate about, I can write for hours and hours, sometimes even coming back to it the next day and adding to what I have written already.  I love writing science fiction & fantasy, debating politics and historic “What-Ifs”, conversing about policies and changes of governments.  I dislike gossiping, rumour spreading & hate mongering, if you have an opinion great, but don’t beat someone with it.  So writing as a deep place in my heart and I love doing it, so I want to share the stories I have, just like everyone else, out there for people to have access too.  When I worked at GW, I loved my job and the people I worked with, but my passion with GW wasn’t with the hobby, but the Black Library.  The story and writing side of the company, the background of the game and the meat and veg of the job itself (imagination).

Sometimes feel like I took a wrong turn somewhere as I always wanted to be a Police Officer or a Teacher and neither of those things appeared to be within my grasp, due to failings of my own (messing around too much at school to become a teacher) and the Police recruiting method (sorry your not a trained police officer, you can’t have the job).  I feel that if I would have applied myself in a more academic direction I may have made something more “Productive” in my life, not that I am making light of the job I do now.  The job I currently have isn’t an easy job, nor is it for the faint of heart, its a tough, hard working job that it takes a special kind of person to do.  However I have always said I was built for something else, something more productive and I think that it may have been writing.  My poor understanding of grammar, my lack of knowledge of the English dictionary and my complete failure of my creative muscle within me is my undoing.  I am attempting to repair these three faults, but they are pretty much epic scale faults when it comes to creative writing, with the lean towards becoming published.  The current bout of writers block isn’t helping at all, in fact it is soul crushing.  I have spoken with a published author about my feelings and, he pointed out that you don’t need degree’s to get anywhere.  I just need to write on, pretty much grind on with what I am going and get it out there.

That’s enough about my writing, what am I reading, still Saint Augustine.  His book “Confessions” is really a good read, but at points it reads more like the Bible than an autobiography.  Some of the things he has written about really touch home with myself and I find we are very alike.  I am beginning to understand the historicism of the Catholic church and how much I can actually believe.  Through Augustine’s writings I can see why he was considered radical within the church as his beliefs on the creation of man and the world are close to scientific reasoning.  Also the fact he actually believed in the scientific thinkers of his times regarding the stars, space, time makes him someone that, obviously, didn’t just change his life on a whim.  Augustine had beliefs prior to Christianity and he followed them until they were proven wrong.  Christianity was the last of that line, nothing could prove his belief in Christianity wrong and that, for me, is a strong indicator of how much he trusted and believed the Catholic church.  I have not finished reading just yet, so lets see how the book finishes, but I don’t think I can change my path now.  Going back to church, speaking with fellow Catholic’s frequently and reading the Bible, as well as Confessions, is really showing me how great a religion it is.  I was going to write a blog last week regarding “Neo-Atheism” and its impact on the world, but I will save that for another blog post.

I have eight more days off and, apart from spending it with Kim, I will be dedicating my spare time to getting my characters written down and focussing on pushing my book in a forward direction.

Take care everyone.


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