This sucks. I want to write something, but the muse won’t come. Not just a blog, I want to write something original. Part of it is that I’ve always wanted to write that whole epic kick ass novel, or series. Something with action in it, suspense, maybe with some sci-fi aspects or fantasy elements, or a bit of both. I’ve got so many notebooks packed away in storage that have the beginnings of several novel ideas, maybe even the first few chapters already written. But it never fails, the muse flails around about chapter four or so and just meanders off, mumbling to herself, “What the hell was that? That was crap. I can inspire and write better than this, so why am I not doing it?!?! This is shit, scrap it.” And I do, it just gets filed with all the rest of the unfinished shit and falls into the black hole of writings that may never be finished. I’ll rediscover it a few years down the road, will read what I had started to write, and tell myself, “Yeah, the idea was good, but jeebus, ya dumb shit, that writing is horrible. How did you think that was actually good story telling when you wrote this?!” Then I’ll take a different colored pen than what I originally wrote in (I tend to do most of my first drafts the old fashioned way, ink to paper) and go crazy correcting and rewriting and then shoving it all back in the folder in disgust. The ideas of the stories are pretty good, in theory, but I can never put pen to paper in a way that will do the idea justice. In a way that will drag a person into the story to the point where the reader is IN that world. Where the reader is THERE, in the story, can imagine themselves with the main character, whether that’s as another character or as if they were an invisible spectator.
I want to WRITE. I want to get lost in my own story, like I do with stories by my favorite authors. I want to BE someone’s favorite author. I know I could do it. I know I can write well. So, why won’t I do it?!?!