I am out of pretty words
My brain cells are fried
I’ve been writing for days
Typing for miles
Traipsing up and down the hills of my mind
Pulling stories out of thin air
Turning them into words I breath in
Push my chair back
And stare at the wall
How peaceful it is
To let my mind be empty
A pottery jar
I lie in the bottom
And look out to the sky
Watching the stars
Why did I choose this thing for my life
It consumes so much energy and time
But when I write
I don’t need to eat
I don’t need anything at all
Just my computer
And to stare at a wall occasionally
It’s like being in love
With I don’t know what?
Have become my lover
*poor poetry, I wouldn’t read it if I were you. Some days the dreams disintegrate into the ether and we become slaves to reality instead.
That’s me after three days world building and following my characters on a high and then back to earth, edit edit edit
Miles of words 30,000 plus this week late nights, early mornings and trying to fit life in around this relentless pursuit that I’m not sure why I am doing at times
To add to my wordiness I just joined substack. More writing. As if I am not already intoxicated by sentences that hum through my head day and night.
Email lists are difficult to build – every writer I know is trying to flog an email list and the last time I built one I began publishing an online magazine. Remember Audacity? You can still look at those six time heavy energy draining (but also incredibly fun to write) issues – they are on the blog under the menu section.
I don’t want to build a newsletter and add to the virtual litter
So substack is a good option, I think.
This is an experiment.
It’s not monetised though it can be but I don’t intend to, and you can actually skip leaving an email as well – I’m trialling it – give it six months
I will let you know how it goes.
What subject matter can you expect? Well I did have the thought of trials and tribulations of an author. Guess what all the other writers and authors are writing about….
They say you should write to someone you care about. All of the people I care about are tired of hearing about my writing. so I don’t talk about it anymore.
But my characters have a real interest in my writing, after all this is their life I’m creating, and oddly enough mine is also changing as a result of adding to their experiences.
So that is what the writing cache on sub stack is – for now at least – letters to and from between the creator and the created. Weird? So is sitting in a chair for several hours writing stories that appear in our heads. Everything about being a writer is strange. If we got paid in words outlayed, we would be billionaires. But creativity isn’t about money, it’s about energy. And as Stripy said tonight – writing is a beautiful way to spend a life, not another thing to fail at. But rather to delight in and enjoy.
It was what I needed to hear. How handy to have an imaginary friend – in fact an entire book of them ❤️