The Hardest Part About Writing

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I’ve never found writing difficult. Writer’s block is a term I’ve been fortunate enough to never fully comprehend or believe in. I don’t believe true and genuine writers are ever truly blocked from being able to write. I believe we become blocked from the willingness to write but certainly not the ability to do so.

I was ten years old writing essays i’m fairly confident would stand up next to those of your average high school student’s. I don’t say that egotistically, I say it because I know it to be true.

So for me to sit in front of a blank piece of paper with a pen in my hand or in front of a computer screen and come up with nothing and then blame it on some convenient phenomenon known as writer’s block would be a cop out. Nothing more,nothing less.

Doctor’s don’t get surgery block. Quarterback’s don’t forget how to throw touchdowns. And real writers don’t forget how to write or find a shortage of things to write about.

In fact what most encounter and never tell anyone is they have a barrage of things they could and should write about but the truth is that they’d simply rather not.

After all,what would people say?

It takes a certain kind of person to want to share their worst and best thoughts and experiences with others in hopes that someone,including themselves might learn something or gain something from it. Find a value in it.

It’s my belief that we all have thoughts,ideas and experiences we wish to express or contribute in some way but most never actually do so because they wait for permission from some unknown source or a set of perfect circumstances that will never exist.

The most difficult part of writing for me is examining who I was and what I did. What I didn’t do. What I could and should have did instead. All the things I said of which I wish I could take back and all the things I should have said that I never found the courage or humility to. Because I was waiting for some set of perfect circumstances that never came to fruition.

The hard part is sharing a bunch of things about yourself that a part of you hates with the people you love, the people you dislike and everyone in between. For free. Until the universe decides maybe you should get some money for doing so. Or doesn’t.

I’ve done so many things that were nothing but a waste of my time and sent me in a very wrong direction. This is not one of them.

In 2013 I started a blog because I read someone else’s and knew I could do better so I did.

It’s 2017 and I still write there. Even though blog is a terrible word and i’ll fist fight the first person to refer to me as a blogger. On a side note I just realized that I now run a blog that has lasted longer than any relationship I’ve ever been in. At least I can commit to something.

The hardest part about writing for me is people telling me they liked what I wrote and knowing they meant it. I turn into a thirteen year old girl who was just told she’s beautiful,I really don’t know how to appropriately handle it and frankly it’s embarrassing.

The hardest part about writing isn’t knowing how to, or where to start, it’s actually sitting down to do so rather than just thinking you should.

It’s seeing that episode of “Family Guy” where Stewie mocks Brian the dog about ‘The novel he has been working on for seven years’ and thinking to yourself “Shit, am I like Brian the dog from family guy?”

It’s writing, releasing and it going completely unnoticed. As if it never happened. None of the fictional fantasies about doing so coming true nor none of the fears.

It’s getting to a place where you legitimately don’t care about the outcome, detaching yourself from the results and realizing you don’t do it for anyone else other than yourself. That you did it in some way, shape or form back when Mark Zuckerberg was still in the process of stealing his friends ideas. That you did it before you told people you did it, before they cared. Before you knew why you did it. That you did it while you were supposed to be listening to whatever bullshit your 7th grade history teacher was rambling on about.

The hardest part about writing is knowing that maybe you’re better than most that do it but maybe you’ll get a fraction of the recognition that they do. It’s reading professional writers published work and finding mistakes that both them and their editor apparently missed, without even trying,yet having to wake up and go to your construction job in the morning.

It’s knowing that maybe the only reason you have to wake up and go to your construction job in the morning is because you don’t write as much as you should and actually doing something about it. The hardest part about writing,is actually writing.

Writing About the Human Condition, via My Thoughts, Observations, Experiences, and Opinions — Founder of Journal of Journeys and BRB INC ©

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