I have been working on a novel since I was in eighth grade. That’s a long time considering I’m a sophomore in college now.
And yet, I haven’t given up because writing is the best and worst thing I have ever done. Writing is supposed to be hard because imagination and inspiration yearn to be seen, and we as adults (I use that word loosely) tend to overlook the wonder of the world. As children we have the endless energy and ability to create without fail. Somewhere along the way, however, we tend to lose this. My goal in life has been to keep that wonder and writing has been the best way to find it again.
Inspiration is everywhere; be it in the tree in your front yard the or needle sitting on your grandmother’s sewing table. Stories live within every crack and nook and cranny of our lives and they yearn to be seen and heard.
But finding that inspiration is hard. Even when it stares you in the face we tend to overlook the details and see only the big picture. I want to find those details again and recreate what I have lost: my inspiration.
Lately I have been trying to write short stories and it hasn’t been going well. I find myself staring at a notebook or at my computer screen for hours wanting something, anything, to manifest onto the page. And yet, its when I least expect it that I find myself living in the world of my character and writing an endless amount of words.
Finding the time to write is only half the problem, the other half is letting go of your expectations and just write what you want to write without feeling self conscious about it.