The truth about writer’s block…

Not to say this is everyone, but this is my personal realization on writing. I get tired. Tired of writing, tired of trying to make things happen. Tired of using this stupid keyboard where the keys feel like they stick. Tired of staring at an empty, white screen with gray background. Tired of putting up chapters on the webpage when I seriously doubt anyone reads them (beyond those I email them to). And I am seriously getting tired of being uninspired by other sluggish fanfics.

Now that that is out of the way, I have no explanation whatsoever for my slacker-like tendencies concerning my stories (After All This…; Free Your Mind; and at some times, Chicago Melodies). The only clear reasoning my mind can bend around is the fact that I am Amy, Queen to the nation’Slacker Nation. I am the epitome of slacker.

I have been using the almighty excuse (on Chicago Melodies at least) of writer’s block in the past few weeks. In all honesty, there are many reasons to the block. None of which seem like the serious taboo of writer’s block. I’ve had it before; I do not have it now. My life has changed from the way it was just three months ago, hell-from two months ago, fuck-from one month ago. First off, I am presently back in the Chicagoland area and using my dad’s computer because I have yet to set up my computer. Yes, lazy, I know. I hate his keyboard. Mine is lovely. The keys click so loud that you know your hands can fly across them with efficiency and barely a typo known to humankind. His? So different!

Being at home, I am also spending most of my days at work. Yes, the pool store once again. That alone makes it hard to even sit before a computer, let alone with interest enough to write. I get bored sitting at work and surprisingly enough I started reading a book. Yeah, with a back and front cover and everything! I know, I can hardly believe it myself. In all actualities, I am thoroughly enjoying the book and want to read more often. This makes me sit in front of the computer ravaging through endless links pages looking for more fanfic to read. Unfortunately I have yet to find any as tantalizing and entertaining as any I have already started reading and am presently waiting on updates. I guess they have writer’s block, too…

Another big reason that is always in my mind, and it’s about as real as I can get, is that my imagination works way too fast. What I mean by that is that everyday, I have new idea for Anna and Kevin. It all gets worked out in my head, settings, situations, conversations, everything. Unfortunately, most of those situations have to happen in the future of the story. But, I’m not there yet compared to the last chapter that I have written. I’m way off and slacking in terms of time. I write a chapter, like it, but then realize that I have to write more about what’s happening at that time to continue the story in a logical and realistic manner. Unfortunately, I promised myself that as long as Kevin was with a 20-year-old, I was staying as realistic in other aspects as possible. So far I’ve stuck by that…I hope I still do.

Another reason, and it’s kind of stupid, but it’s real. Envy.nu is not being very nice to me lately. It gives me hassles on whether it wants to upload and how fast—slow is more like it—that the pages do upload. So, when I do sit down to update something…anything…it takes me for-ever!

How about a real reason? I have issues. Really, I do. These issues clog my memory, my plans on what to do and what I feel about other things. And in all honesty, the first half of this was written almost a month ago and I am now finishing it (talk about Queen of Slacker Nation). And from that time, I have been accumulating even more issues. In a quick run down here it goes…

*My brother’s moving out soon.

*He’s going to be a father.

*He’s still with the girl that I’m not sure I approve of.

*Thus, my parents are on the edge—especially Mom.

*I’ve still been in touch with Joe, whom I’ve been having a pseudo-relationship with since March, and I know for a fact that at least two of my friends and my mom are not in support of it.

*Joe’s got his own family issues and instead of dealing with them, jumped ship for three weeks, not contacting anyone—including me the so-called girlfriend.

*Now that he’s back, my friends and mom are still not supportive of it all that I’m still talking to him.

*Makes me realize that I’m hypocritical of my brother and his girlfriend in saying she’s not what I pictured he’d up with and that she’s no good for him.

*Makes me realize what kind of person I really want to end up with and it is the antithesis of all I have ever claimed before. Let alone what Joe is.

*In retrospect of the Joe issue, I realize I have never had luck with guys.

*In thinking of that, and dealing with the fact of attending three weddings this summer, a bit of depression sets in on watching all my friends with their significant others at these weddings.

*I still have issues on confidence levels of who am, who I want to be, the fact that I don’t always follow either of those details or that I don’t say half the shit I want to at defining moments.

*I hate my job.

*I’ve been getting sick lately, surrounding my allergies—so the doctor says. I feel the worst at work—Mom says maybe I just don’t want to be there.

WOW! That’s all I can say and in reality I don’t think I touched on half of the problems…but either way, I’m a very complex being. And in such, I allow most everything in my life to interfere with the things I really want to do.

I began writing Wonderful as a way to sort out my moods. It started in the summer before college started. I was at that point that Ellie is at, when I was graduating high school. I decided in March that I might want to go to Northern Illinois Univ. I still had yet to apply. I decided right around then that I would go into journalism—formally interested in Psychology. My brother (Jason) was never home. And we didn’t exactly have a friendly relationship. I truly had a friend like the Jamie character—even if she hasn’t been developed all that much in the story. She was one of those girls who wanted attention so she always threw her problems into everyone’s hands in a way of complaining. She wasn’t happy unless she could bitch about how happy she wasn’t. And through it all, everyone loved this girl. And I mean everyone. I considered us very close friends…and to see everyone want to talk to her and not me…well that just about killed.

Bowling wasn’t the greatest that year. For me, individually, it was pretty darned good. But in terms of the team, it sucked. We had so many problems and issues between us all that it was ridiculous.

My parents were not talking for about a two-week period come May. I had badminton tournaments and one they both came to, in different cars. They treated that day as if they were divorced and I truly believed they would be. Each had statements like, "Did you talk to your father?" "Did you talk to your mother." My parents had their twenty-five wedding anniversary just six months before that time and no one saw things as being that bad. Come summer, in fact the day before my college orientation date, my mother told me she asked my dad for a divorce and he said fine…

In all fairness, things have worked out relatively fine since then. I’m at Northern and studying journalism—communications mostly. Jason and I are close, finally. Not as close as I could inevitably hope for, but it’s the best it’s ever been. I am no longer friends with that girl. We lost touch so fast…and it was on her end, not mine…that things were severed. I have a small bit of anger and hatred towards her. Honestly. I feel so used and abused by that relationship in terms of the fact that I felt we were close, that we had a bond…and in the end it’s shown that she didn’t feel the same way.

Bowling has been interesting to say the least, but very satisfying. And my parents? Well, it’s pretty darned obvious that they’re still together. Things worked out just fine. We went on a family vacation that summer and they were fine again. Nothing serious since (three years and counting since that lil’ scare).

And in the end? I have never finished that story. I went back to read parts of it last night and I see a large part of myself in it. The hostility, the fear, the pain. But I know I’m not that person anymore. And in a way, it took me three years to become the person I am now. That’s what scares me. I’m someone totally different and have settled into the niche of who that person is. And thus, the issues have landed and have had three years to build.

I believe I continue my writing because it allows that outlet to dream. I always thought it was foolish to dream, but in a way, it’s foolish not to dream. I was always, am now, and always will be a dreamer. Always looking for the silver lining of the cloud. Always looking for that pot of gold. Always looking for that one person to make everything good.

Writer’s block can be blamed on so many things…but in reality, I think it’s because I’m ever changing and I can’t stay on the issue at hand for more than thirty seconds…give or take a few days. Basically, I start a story with one concern or viewpoint and suddenly I’m no longer there. ‘After All This’ I started with a viciousness that I felt was totally uncharacteristic of what I usually did. I just don’t feel that anymore. And the same is with ‘Wonderful.’ I don’t feel those same issues. I don’t feel like I’m in high school anymore.

Chicago Melodies…I started that one as another ultimate dream…Kevin Richardson picks up a 20-year-old (now 21) in a bowling alley. Holy moly…that’s me. Things are so weird in that story and I know my close friends are reading it that it makes it hard for me to get through the story lines the way I wish them to be. The way I would want to read them to be.

Saved the Best for Last (et al) I got through rather quickly. I think because I let things flow, I wasn’t following an outline or plot ideas. I knew what would ultimately happen, but things happened so much along the way to add chapters and add drama and what else.

What a shocker on this one…’For the First Time’ I started in my utmost dreamer’s stage. A girl who doesn’t look, but wishes. A girl who is blind to what is just in front of her. A guy who wants to be there. A guy who isn’t listened to. What a story…what a dream.

Maybe because I’ve finally considered and admitted to my dreaming quality I can work on that a bit because I was so excited for it when I first started it. We’ll see.

—I think this also shows how fast my mind changes directions… I didn’t stick to one major thought process for more than a paragraph, maybe two…how am I suppose to write a story?