'I ain't no good at this...'

'I ain't no good at this at all.
And even if you are good at it...what exactly are you good at?'

I've never suffered from writer's block.
There's never been a time when once sentence couldn't be followed by another, a time when I don't know what comes next.
To me, what's really difficult is keeping what comes after that out...keeping it out until it's time.
I've never thought of myself as a person who is unable to focus on details.
I always thought I noticed things that were important and some things that were not.
However, I'm starting to wonder if for me, important details are not sometimes snuffed out by the big picture.

I see the end before anything else.
I always have.
To me, there is nothing more important than the way something ends.
The path only leads you to where you end up, to the purpose, to the theme...to the truth.
To me that's what makes a story different from life...the ability to see the end and derive meaning from it.
I think that's what makes living hard for me and probably for most people.
We see where we want to end up, but we can't see the path, nor can we see where we really will end up. Getting there would be so different if we only knew where we were headed.

I kind of wish it were as easy as using Matrix-like technology.
I'd flutter my eyelashes and the whole would spill onto the page in the proper order, that it would make sense and allow others to see what I see.
But it doesn't work that way.
It's about execution and it's difficult to execute order in a jumbled storm of ideas, one bleeding constantly into the next.
"Are you like a crazy person?"
Why yes, I am.

No matter how I do it, whether through writing or by some other means, I just want to make people think, feel, and understand.

Write what you know. Write what you know. Write what you know...

Physical abuse, rape, murder, grief, lust, love, suicide...
I've written about all of these things, but do I really know anything about them?
Not really.

I wouldn't call myself a person who is not easily inspire and last night, I experienced a flash of inspiration, something that convinced me to change the way I was doing things.
I finished the first chapter of my novel and I am now writing "what I know," for the first time in my life.
Yes, a more extreme version of what I know, because it wouldn't be interesting otherwise, but what I know just the same.

I was worried about the way I was executing it in the beginning, but I think it's coming together in a way I like now. I'm not sure if a unique quality is good or bad in this case, but I have a good feeling about this one.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
^ This is the imaginary line of songdom.
No one reads these blogs, in part because I have never promoted them. I thought I would start, but knowing that so many people around me hate my songs and poems, and they should, I thought I'd create an imaginary line of song/poemdom, so if they want to stop reading, they can.

Okay...new one.
Written about five seconds ago.

I can’t read your mind
I wish I could
It’d be best for both of us if you could say
What you want not what you should

I dream in pale whites
And vivid reds
In ‘maybe tomorrow’s
And ‘should’ve said’s

Your mind is plagued by thoughts
Of someone it shouldn’t be
But it’s not me
No, it’s not me

Take those words and let them out
’Cause I don’t care if they hurt me
When you keep them all inside
It’s not just them that can’t be free

I don’t know what you need
And you won’t tell me
And trying to make you
Is born of my greed

I keep things to myself
You’re not the only one
When the truth is surfacing
I’m the type to run

We’re two of a kind
What can we do
When you’re the best of me
And I’m the worst of you

We could take our words and let them out
And hope the truth would set us free
When we keep them all inside
It’s hurting you, it’s hurting me

Let’s take our words and let them out
And hope the truth will set us free
When we keep them all inside
It’s hurting you, it’s hurting me

"You're not really a writer unless people are readin' your shit."

"I'm an aspiring writer."

Another huge blizzard today.
I shoveled the driveway twice before my parents got home and it barely made a dent. It just kept coming. I almost hopped on the 4 wheeler to do it, but I'd never used the plow and it's been awhile since I'd driven the thing in general.
It finally stopped snowing.

So while I was locked away inside, I made flyers for this benefit my family's having for my uncle Gary and printed them out.
I printed up my screenplay too and got it all set for shipping to the Nantucket Film Festival.

Austin's submissions are due in June and I want to send in both the one I'm submitting to Nantucket and the new one I'm working on, so I gotta get crackin'.

I only have six fans and even my biggest fan hasn't read the last one or didn't like it, so she didn't want to review it, so I guess I'm not really a writer.
But no matter what happens, I can't seem to be discouraged from writing, which is both good and bad.
I'm glad I love something, but I'd like to know if I'm wasting my time.

I have to get through this new one, but the story challenges me at every turn...not because it's difficult to write or I don't know what to put on paper, but because it's stuff I'd have trouble talking about, even with close friends.
In any case, I want to get it out because I have another story idea eating at me.

I think much of the time I give the impression that no amount of encouragement could change my thinking, but somewhere along the line, something must have sunken in...now that everyone's given up on me.