Writing is my life. I can’t think of a simpler way to sum up what the sewing together of words means to me. Writing is an art. It isn’t simply throwing words on paper and hoping that somebody will pay mega-bucks to turn it into a multi-million dollar movie. Writing is painting with words. I see myself as an artist, but instead of a paintbrush and paint, I use a pen and a clean sheet of paper. I’ve been writing vigorously since I was sixteen, though I laughed at the idea of being a writer when I was told in the sixth grade I had the knack for story telling. Since then, I’ve compiled three (more like two and a half) novels, each the start to a new series. I’m sure you’re wondering why I’m taking the time to tell you this… because sometimes my job can be a freaking pain in the butt! That’s not at all to say that I don’t enjoy, but there are bumps in the road. Sometimes characters don’t want to cooperate, and then there are deadlines and real life that get in the way. I love being a writer, no questions asked, but it is not an easy road. Inkwell of a Struggling Writer is a new addition to my vastly messy blog in which I will vent about the difficulties I face each day. I will admit that my grammar will not always be fantastic since I’m writing quickly and have little time to edit, but I’m sure most of you don’t mind. (In fact, most of you probably won’t even read this). At any rate, let’s begin with my first rant, shall we?
I’m a Professional Writing major in college, and as a prerequisite for another class I need, I have to take Media Writing. At first, I didn’t think it would be that bad. When I looked into the class I discovered it was basically learning to write for newspapers, magazines, and online blogs. I thought, “Hey, this should be pretty easy.” Boy was I ever wrong. In writing a novel I’m painting a picture with words, but in my Media Writing class I have to write a simply as possible. All the grammar rules I ever learned in high school no longer apply. Two word sentences are allowed, I can’t use words anyone beyond the eighth grade can’t understand, and the comma rules… well let’s just say I pretty much never use commas. I’m sure I’ve already given most of my followers a headache, but for someone like me, that’s a pretty big deal. Let me give you an example:
The woman ran.
How boring is that sentence, and what picture do you gain in your mind when you read it? Some lady running randomly? Why is she running? Where is running? How is she running? All of these things are left out by making it boring and simple. My job is to turn it into vivid image in your mind and make it interesting.
The horrified woman raced expeditiously through the rain soaked streets, hoping that she had evaded her husband’s killer in the midst of the chaotic city.
Whoa… that’s a much longer sentence, but do you see what I mean? What do you know of this woman now. She’s clearly afraid and running for her life, it’s raining, and a killer is after her. Can you see this picture better in your minds eye?
I haven’t even gotten to the part of the class where I have to write a paper yet, and quite frankly I’m almost dreading that day. I’m in the middle of finishing a novel in hopes of getting it published before my Junior year, and I’m expected to switch back and forth between writing styles for the next semester. The teacher of the class is one of the sweetest ladies I’ve ever met, and she seems passionate about what she teaches, but I can’t help feeling irritated when I sit through the class. I feel like she’s ripping everything away that makes me unique, everything that I’ve taken my whole life to build up. It’s like I’m a painter who is being told that I’m painting wrong. I want to do well in this class, but it is going to be incredibly difficult for me when I naturally write creatively. At any rate, it’s getting late and I must get up early for class. For all you other writer’s out there, I hope this has at least been mildly interesting (despite any grammatical errors). Until next time.