A writer's life is tough. We hold our own hours and sometimes our own deadlines. In our works, we are in control of everything and sometimes all that responsibility is overwhelming. There is no one giving us an outline, instructions on the specific word count, events that must take place, or characters to form. It is all in our minds and executed by our hands. Writers must have self discipline to push away distractions, sit down, and write. Some days are easier than others. There are times we can sit down the the words just leap onto the page, but others we stare at the blank page, begging words to form. We are constantly rewriting, crumpling up paper, and stress snacking. Writers must also endure emotional roller coasters.
cannot be all sunshine and flowers for our characters. We must put them
through hard things, take loved ones away, and force them to make
decisions that will change their lives forever. It is what sculpts their
personalities. Sometimes you simply feel bad for your character when
you make them suffer. Other times you get that horrible knot in your
stomach, want to throw up, and sob your heart out.
recently been reminded of all this. For the last week I have been
laboring over my thirteenth chapter of my novel. It is a chapter that
changed my character's life. It is such a critical moment that I am
struggle to put the pieces together. I have all these pieces in front of
me but the connections are unclear. I have written eight different
versions to begin my chapter but something is disconnected in each one.
My friends have given me suggestions to help the transition but
ultimately it comes back to me. I have to put the words down. Today as I
was writing I felt a rush of so many feelings at once. My character was
put in a horrible situation and he had to go through it for the sake of
the plot and the sake of his character. I was grinning as I had him
bravely accept the challenge, then I got a knot in my stomach the dread
came. As the action began, I wanted to hit the delete button and start
grieving over my decision. The tears literally came to my eyes but I
knew it had to be done. So I kept writing.
along with our characters and learn new things with every new line.
Writing never ceases, a story simply ends. And each time, we move one to
endure it all over again, with another place, another person, and
another goal. Like all things, our job shall one day come to a halt. In
the end, we look back and know it was worth it. The struggle, the
journey, the outcome, it will be worth it. This is the life we chose to
pursue. We chose to sweat, to bleed, and to cry, for plot, for
character, and for reader. We chose a writer's life.