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I am often forced to face that fact that I am not as handy with words as I would like to think. My brain seems to get caught up in act of putting little squiggles of ink on the paper (or electronic impulses on a computer screen) and my thoughts -- which seem so fluid and concise in my brain end up crude and mundane once written down.
I'm never really happy with my work. Although maybe that's not completely true. I am, at first, infatuated with what I write. At first glance it seems to have all the snap and verve that I imagined when I first conceived the idea, but once I go back and read it ends up being lifeless and mundane.
Sometimes I think I work the words to death, revising all the life out of them. Other times I think I don't put enough effort into rooting out the right words that carry with them the connotations that will make my prose sing. Too often, I feel my writing is blocky, lifeless and lumpy compared to well written prose that just zings. The prose that I imagine when I think the thought through. Like a house made of baby blocks sitting next to intricately carved sculptures.
Most of the time, though, I just don't finish it, 'cuz that way I can continue to think that I'm insightful and eloquent rather than having proof otherwise.
I don't suppose it help any that I tend to come at things from a different angle than most. It is hard, I guess, to make intricately carved sculptures when the tools I prefer to work with are blocky and solid.
Still, it would be nice to not continually criticize my own work. I'm a hell of a less nit-picky with other people's work. And the comes a time when being self-deprecating becomes rather than a useful motivational tool.
And it could be that that I use all that as an excuse for me not to do the work that is involved in writing.
Do I not write because I feel that I'm not good enough or do I feel I'm not good enough because I don't write?
Circular logic: It is our friend.
Still, lately, I'm thinking I'm just lazy and I just don't want to work. Of course I cover it all with good reasons not to work. Family, work, household responsibilities, and the ever popular "I work hard and I deserve to just relax".
Need to think on that.
I'm never really happy with my work. Although maybe that's not completely true. I am, at first, infatuated with what I write. At first glance it seems to have all the snap and verve that I imagined when I first conceived the idea, but once I go back and read it ends up being lifeless and mundane.
Sometimes I think I work the words to death, revising all the life out of them. Other times I think I don't put enough effort into rooting out the right words that carry with them the connotations that will make my prose sing. Too often, I feel my writing is blocky, lifeless and lumpy compared to well written prose that just zings. The prose that I imagine when I think the thought through. Like a house made of baby blocks sitting next to intricately carved sculptures.
Most of the time, though, I just don't finish it, 'cuz that way I can continue to think that I'm insightful and eloquent rather than having proof otherwise.
I don't suppose it help any that I tend to come at things from a different angle than most. It is hard, I guess, to make intricately carved sculptures when the tools I prefer to work with are blocky and solid.
Still, it would be nice to not continually criticize my own work. I'm a hell of a less nit-picky with other people's work. And the comes a time when being self-deprecating becomes rather than a useful motivational tool.
And it could be that that I use all that as an excuse for me not to do the work that is involved in writing.
Do I not write because I feel that I'm not good enough or do I feel I'm not good enough because I don't write?
Circular logic: It is our friend.
Still, lately, I'm thinking I'm just lazy and I just don't want to work. Of course I cover it all with good reasons not to work. Family, work, household responsibilities, and the ever popular "I work hard and I deserve to just relax".
Need to think on that.
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no subject
Date: 2003-01-04 03:18 pm (UTC)From:As many published writers as not are hacks, and the same can be said for we amaturs. But I've not found your work to be blocky or lifeless. On the contrary I find it refreshing and consise, much less full of itself than my own prattle and far more worthy of time spent than many of those who now sit within my miriad of shelving.
The laziness I'd buy if writing prose were your vocation and not your hobby, but your time is your own and there is no one standing over your shoulder telling you to be "constructive" with every second; as if scribing personal thought is more constructive than admiring good acting or devouring a finely crafted cheese pizza.
Methinks you doth protest too much. You are as good as any hon, and better than most. Write without a second thought to your insecurities as they are misguided and serve only to stifle your pleasant and insightful voice.
Or, watch tv. Either is fine:p
no subject
Date: 2003-01-05 09:08 pm (UTC)From:The new year always makes me self-consciously pensive and somewhat melencholy... neither one of which are my normal state of mind. I'm generally aggressively optimistic, if somewhat sarcastic.
I think, however, that since I find that I am in a better state of mind and, strangely enough, health when I do manage to write, I'm going to try to improve on that. More writing, less over thinking.
I'm also going to try to be less reclusive and post a few more comments on-line and talk to those of you whom I enjoy reading on-line and on Live Journal.
Hopefully you will be seeing a bit more of me around.