On writing.

Writing is therapy. Writing is liberation. It is fun, frustration, hard work, discipline, anger and-

Holy shit, where the hell did my files go? I just wrote about 3000 words and the computer starts to act out! Those were bloody good 3000 words! *Howls of frustration and hair pulling ensues* At least I think they were. In my head they definitely still are. And I lost them. Mother…! Screw this, I know they were brilliant, they were without a doubt the best collection of words I have ever strung together.

Deep breath. Okay, start again, it’ll come to you.

That little black line blinks and blinks and blinks.

*pounds tiny fist on the table*

They were sooo good!!!

Another breath, a coffee, a cigarette.

Thinking, twirling hair, emitting groans of frustration. (Pretty sure our neighbors think we have a very interesting sex-life)

And then it’s there. That place of inner peace, it comes when I least expect it. It makes ideas tumble, characters dance and my fingers fly. It is an outlet of stress, anger and a place I can go to when my imagination runs wild.

It’s the place that makes up for all the hard work. The swearing, the lamenting, the crying, the late nights and the self-doubt. Here I have total freedom, I get shit done while dreaming and chasing butterflies.

It can not be called upon, or coaxed out, or bribed, or even dragged into the light. It comes and goes as it pleases. Inspiration.

If it hits, count yourself lucky and let your fingers fly and characters dance. Hold on to your keyboard and tuck in those cheeks.

There is magic in writing, in telling a story. It is powerful and should never be underestimated.

Go and write, sweat, lament, cry and howl in frustration. The inner peace will come. Inspiration will hit. You just never know when and where. 😉


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