Honestly I'm more than exhausted. Everything I see on the screen in front of me is literally blurring and skewing my eyes. But I promised myself I'd be back behind the wheel again soon, and frankly I have missed writing. Even spontaneous thoughts like now. I have missed being able to spill everything out onto pages, into words. Maybe it's just easier to write everything down instead of locking it up in your head, or tiring all your friends with the same old stories and same old problems. Maybe. Or, maybe I just missed the craft.
I have been writing all day, in fact, but on a considerably duller text - my thesis. Things are going rather well at the studio, I really like it there. Everyone's cool, talented and hard-working, and still there always seems to be small talk and break time going on everywhere. People dart between eachothers' offices asking for files and delegating work and fetching fresh coffee. I'm essentially getting an exclusive sneak peek into the daily life of real game developers. Wow, sounds so amazing when I put it like that. Me and Lotta are the lowlives of the food chain, currently. The closest verbal description to what we're doing would be that we're "interns", but we're not really interns. The actual interns are there pitching in to the workload wherever possible. We're just there to get an insight into the worklife, and to write our thesis in cooperation with the company. As soon as the first, theoretical report has been written, though, we'll begin our practical work; and I'm hoping that'll make us feel like we're not taking up all their space. (I don't feel like that now either, but it's going to be nice to actually be helpful.) My thesis investigates the possibility of applying typical human movement patterns to non-human creatures, and how this affects player perception of character personality. It's a really interesting starting point, and I'm slowly getting somewhere with my report, but there's still a long way to go. Either way I'll just keep on pushing throughout the week. The first draft is due to my tutor on Tuesday. Hopefully he can tell me whether or not I'm going in the right direction with this whole thing. I thought writing academically would be easy, or well, usually it is. It's just that the whole essay is looming up over me like the exaggerated shadow cast by a comic book villain in a dark back alley. Whenever I start writing and referencing, I tangle myself up in my own arguments that I completely lose myself among all the words. But hey, that's okay. I just read today in a book on research methodology that a finished report may look very polished and perfect, but that it started out chaotic and fumbling; which made me feel a lot better.
I've heard our grades from our individual projects are going to be announced next week, by the way. I'm nervous to get the results. I think I did a huge job on both the practical and the theoretical level, but it all depends on what grade I get on my final report. So let's, let's just drop that for now.
Here's another thing that may look polished and perfect but started out chaotic and fumbling: my life. Nah, except for the perfect part. And the polished part. My point is, my life has been messy from time to time, messy as hell. There have been so many times when I've just seen no way out, and I've been convinced that I'm never going to be happy or be able to fulfil any of my dreams. On paper, things are looking up for me right now. But mentally, I am a shipwreck, an utter and complete shipwreck. The only time I don't feel like that is when Dear One is near. Or here.
This is depressing me. Signing off,
POET IN THE JAR
Thursday, January 31
Tuesday, January 29
I'm Good At Giving Myself Advice
Writing used to be so easy to me. I mean, at times it was hard; really hard. There were times when I stared at a blank page for hours on end and times I got entangled in impossible plot holes. There were times I dropped a novel because it just got out of hand. Times I didn't write at all. But even in those times, keeping a journal, or whatever you might call this place, has been easy. It's been easy to write about my everyday problems, my thoughts on the universe, and anything that might stray into my mind while I was typing. Poetry and spontaneous blog posts have been easy. Everything used to be so easy to write about, because I clung on to writing. Clung on to the words I could create. They were my lifeboat, and the way I handled everything.
And now I don't write. I don't plan writing sessions. I don't write spontaneously. Every line of every poem I've tried to write in the past few months has felt out of place, stereotypical or plain terrible. My main outlet of creativity has become to obsessively research obscure TV series trivia while I watch said series on TV. This is not good. Not good at all.
I've hit rock bottom of the valley named writer's block, and I've hit rock bottom hard this time.
If you google "how to overcome writer's block", you get 2,580,000 hits. That's right. Two million five-hundred eighty-thousand hits. I could pick up on any one of these 2,5 million hits and magically start my journey out of writer's block valley. Easy as that.
But it wouldn't be as easy as that. Time after time, in this very specific and intuitive field of writing, I've found that writing can't be taught to you. Sure, you can learn the language better. Expand your vocabulary and improve your grammar. You can learn how to analyze litterature. You can pick up tools from your writing teacher at your expensive but most likely fruitless writer's school that have names like protagonist development and the dramaturgical curve. And you can follow the tips on how to overcome writer's block that you find on Google. The thing is, no one can pick you up and lift you out of that valley but you. And if you're not going to work for it, there are no handy tips in the world that is going to help you. There are no quick fixes in writing or in writer's block. There's only you, and the words you put on that page. I have a very simple definition of my own of what teaches someone to write, and to constantly develop as a writer. Since I'm so incredibly adaptive, I shall commit to the popular "bullet list" format for this cause of noble wisdom-sharing.
Here's how to become a better writer in
3 easy steps!
1. Write, write, write.
2. Read, read, read.
3. Experience, experience, experience.
Repeat.
There you have it. It's all very admirable to consciously study the art of writing and the written word itself. I used to study litterature myself. But in essence, I see writing as something more intuitive, more artistic, than technical. All of the writing tools available are great to have at your disposal. Somewhere in the back of your mind, stashed away in your subconscious toolshed, where it can secretly influence your skills without drawing attention to itself. See, whenever I start to analyze my own writing TOO consciously; I'm sent down writer's block valley.
I only know one way to battle writer's block, and I don't need to browse any of Google's 2,5 million suggestions for it to work. It's like writing was car driving, and writer's block was an unexpected car crash in which you were slightly wounded, but you'll live; and the metallic sound of the crash was the heaviest burden you took with you from the accident. If you don't drive again soon after the accident, you're going to start to fear driving that car, fear causing another crash, fear not knowing where the road might take you. If you don't get back in the car right away and drive it off to somewhere things might be better, you're never going to get back in that car. Now imagine there were no buses or trains or other vehicles at all that would get you to that destination you used to go or to take those rocky terrain roads that you used to take. You're going to have to be driven around to your every errand by your off-the-bat uncle.
Beat the hell out of your own fear. Beat the hell out of writer's block. Start writing again. Force yourself to. Because the only thing keeping you from doing it, is you.
So that's what I'm doing here. I'm forcing myself to put myself behind the wheel again and steer out on unknown roads. Forcing myself to write.
Funny how the first thing I write is a guide for writing, when I have been out of business for months.
POET IN THE JAR
And now I don't write. I don't plan writing sessions. I don't write spontaneously. Every line of every poem I've tried to write in the past few months has felt out of place, stereotypical or plain terrible. My main outlet of creativity has become to obsessively research obscure TV series trivia while I watch said series on TV. This is not good. Not good at all.
I've hit rock bottom of the valley named writer's block, and I've hit rock bottom hard this time.
If you google "how to overcome writer's block", you get 2,580,000 hits. That's right. Two million five-hundred eighty-thousand hits. I could pick up on any one of these 2,5 million hits and magically start my journey out of writer's block valley. Easy as that.
But it wouldn't be as easy as that. Time after time, in this very specific and intuitive field of writing, I've found that writing can't be taught to you. Sure, you can learn the language better. Expand your vocabulary and improve your grammar. You can learn how to analyze litterature. You can pick up tools from your writing teacher at your expensive but most likely fruitless writer's school that have names like protagonist development and the dramaturgical curve. And you can follow the tips on how to overcome writer's block that you find on Google. The thing is, no one can pick you up and lift you out of that valley but you. And if you're not going to work for it, there are no handy tips in the world that is going to help you. There are no quick fixes in writing or in writer's block. There's only you, and the words you put on that page. I have a very simple definition of my own of what teaches someone to write, and to constantly develop as a writer. Since I'm so incredibly adaptive, I shall commit to the popular "bullet list" format for this cause of noble wisdom-sharing.
Here's how to become a better writer in
3 easy steps!
1. Write, write, write.
2. Read, read, read.
3. Experience, experience, experience.
Repeat.
There you have it. It's all very admirable to consciously study the art of writing and the written word itself. I used to study litterature myself. But in essence, I see writing as something more intuitive, more artistic, than technical. All of the writing tools available are great to have at your disposal. Somewhere in the back of your mind, stashed away in your subconscious toolshed, where it can secretly influence your skills without drawing attention to itself. See, whenever I start to analyze my own writing TOO consciously; I'm sent down writer's block valley.
I only know one way to battle writer's block, and I don't need to browse any of Google's 2,5 million suggestions for it to work. It's like writing was car driving, and writer's block was an unexpected car crash in which you were slightly wounded, but you'll live; and the metallic sound of the crash was the heaviest burden you took with you from the accident. If you don't drive again soon after the accident, you're going to start to fear driving that car, fear causing another crash, fear not knowing where the road might take you. If you don't get back in the car right away and drive it off to somewhere things might be better, you're never going to get back in that car. Now imagine there were no buses or trains or other vehicles at all that would get you to that destination you used to go or to take those rocky terrain roads that you used to take. You're going to have to be driven around to your every errand by your off-the-bat uncle.
Beat the hell out of your own fear. Beat the hell out of writer's block. Start writing again. Force yourself to. Because the only thing keeping you from doing it, is you.
So that's what I'm doing here. I'm forcing myself to put myself behind the wheel again and steer out on unknown roads. Forcing myself to write.
Funny how the first thing I write is a guide for writing, when I have been out of business for months.
POET IN THE JAR
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