Writing Woes

I'm slowly beginning to over come my writing fears. I started a narrative project and, for the most part, I am enjoying the slow, arduous task of piecing my ideas into story. I do love the feeling of rereading a paragraph I constructed and thinking "wow, I wrote that". However, I don't always elicit such reaction.

Over the years, I've become acutely aware that, at times, I am my own worst enemy. I beat myself up over the smallest failures. Just last night, I was brought to the verge of guilty tears because I had scorched the rice. Often, I hold the guilt for my students failing a vocabulary test, or forgetting to hand in a composition, whether or not it was my fault. I burry myself under tasks and expectations-to be the best possible teacher, girl friend, daughter, friend I can be, and then feeling defeated and injured if I make the slightest mistake.

Writing fits in with these perimeters.

In high school and college, writing was a release. I wrote long winded poems about the winding Pennsylvania roads or cold, New Jersey beaches. I emptied out my broken hearts on the pages of my journals. I felt pure bliss as I wrote beautiful, non-sensical proses on pieces of loose leaf. My favorite nights were spent at an open mic with Melinda at The Uptown Coffee House in Kutztown.

But, like everything else, my feelings towards writing has changed since I've gotten older. Back then, it was like a whimsical love affair. Romantic, passionate, head spinning. Now, well, I'm not sure just how to describe it.

Writing is not as easy anymore. I spend a lot of time scrutinizing my words, obsessing over my unknown readers, and wondering if there's a chance in hell I could get published. It feels impossible to write just for me anymore. I find myself thinking about a market, wondering if the three pages I just wrote are worth anything, if I'm kidding myself completely.

I find that I write slowly these days. I'm working on a young adult story now, and I haven't been able to get past page 4 in a few hours. Truth be told, I've never finished any story I've ever written (except for one or two I wrote for Karen Blomain's short fiction course). When I was 18, my only goal was to publish a book. How am I supposed to do that if I can't even finish 10 pages?

Deep breath. Writing has been my passion as long as I can remember. I just have to remind myself that this isn't about anyone else. I have to remind myself that there's no use in bruising my own ego over a case of writers' block. And sometimes, you have to stop thinking about who's going to read it, and just let the words do their job.