Hi, Hey, Hello!
I came to a realisation the other day, which I feel like I really should have had a while ago now.
I do an awful lot of writing.
Sometimes it is glaringly obvious, like when I elect to write 30,000, 20,000 or 50,000 words in a matter of days. I can acknowledge that is a shit ton of writing, especially when you take onto consideration that I also then go and write 5 new blog posts each week with varying levels of content. And then sometimes I get hit with waves of inspiration to write other things that aren’t blog or project related and I’m writing even more.
Which means it is somehow no surprise that when I come out April, July and November respectively in this case (one of those is so coming…I’m a goner) that I feel like I will never know how to string a sentence together ever again.
But for an English graduate, all this writing is weirdly new. The most I would have to do on a weekly basis at uni should I ever get a non-coursework essay that I had to write for a tutorial would be 1,000-1,500 words. That seemed like a lot to me. That was a struggle and it blew my damn mind when I had to do two of them and that was a rarity. Getting those words out seemed like the hardest thing ever and I would stare at the word count counter with held breath and then let out a sigh of disbelief when I realised that I had only added about 6 words since the last time I checked. When coursework came around they were 3,000 word mountains that seemed unconquerable. I would spend days on end looking at them and somehow I would still always scramble for the last few hundred words that would put me over the 10% leeway barrier.
My relationship with words was complicated and somehow forced. I only ever really say behind a keyboard and typed when I had to churn an essay out. I didn’t quite connect with the beauty of putting a pen to paper in the way that I do now. Don’t get me wrong I still had a creative outlet whilst I was at uni (and pretty much only then) but it was limited to once a week on a Monday and then whenever creativity really hit me, which was rarely.
These days it feels like if I don’t write at least something, no matter how short, I will legitimately go insane. I have so many unfinished notes and documents on my phone from when I have just had to kill time and so I’ve opened a new one and just started typing away with no real idea where it’s going, but knowing that there is an idea simmering in my head that needs to get out. I find solace in the times where I know my evening is going to consist mainly of writing up new blog posts so that they can post (mostly) on time. The weekends are these totally free expanses of time that I can just kind of get lost in and write away, especially Sundays. Sundays have taken on this weird shape recently where they are basically the day I choose to reset myself completely for the upcoming week (sometimes they are productive, sometimes the involve watching a whole TV show and wasting time of the internet).
I’ve, largely, finally stop viewing things as word counts. That has been hugely freeing. I’ve sorted of had a second realisation that literature/writing can kind of be whatever the hell you want it to be. Those fractured notes of things on my phone could become something hearty or they could stay just as fractured as they currently are, but still mean something. I’ve accepted that sometimes things will be short because that’s all I’ve got in the tank and some things will be lengthy af because I have an attachment to words problem.
I’ve basically reached a stage where writing has just woven itself into the very fabric of my being and it would take a very keen eye to be able to pick it out of there. I’m at a weird point where I fully acknowledge that it’s totally borderline insane to actively aim to write anything close to a few hundred thousand words in 30 days, but it’s a creative channel that also sort of excites me as well as totally drains me.
All this writing is basically the thing that I need most because my brain never seems to stop creating ideas. Most of them are truly awful and burn out pretty quickly but at least they aren’t knocking about in my head anymore. Some seemingly appear like they are gonna burn out quickly but then they become something bigger. Something I find myself continually adding to in my head and then leaving sentence long clues for myself everywhere to pick back up agin and expand on (this is why my July Camp Nano project exists, and why it won’t be one of those things that dies off for me, I am still excited about it). I never quite know which way an idea is gonna go, but I pretty much just accept them all these days and work through them in and amongst writing blog posts and reading and going to work and occasionally actually sleeping.
I just got slightly meta about writing for nearly 1,000 words which probably in and of itself tells you all you need to know about me and my relationship to writing these days.
It’s a requirement. It’s draining as hell sometimes and words can be a real bitch when they don’t want to cooperate with you, but I kind of always have been and definitely always will be better with words on a page/screen then anywhere else.
Parentheses count: 5. See you tomorrow!
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