I’ve been told so many times that writing is easy, and that if you are an author, it should come to you naturally.
That is a big sack of lies and crap, because I struggle on a daily basis to write and even think of how to edit my manuscripts. Sure, I can find someone to edit my books, but because I am self-publishing my own novels, I am my own team. There are days I can write like I’m bleeding into the pages and fully form understandable paragraphs, other times I can only put one sentence down.
I’ve been on this constant hunt on how to find a way to keep encouraging my insecure ass to keep writing something, anything, every day, regardless of how piss poor it may read or sound to someone’s mind. But… I continue, I strive to find that Holy Grail of Writing which will make it easy to let the words from my soul just pour down like the rain on gray silver days.
One of the things I’ve realized that can help me, is Bullet Journaling, but Lordt– My penmanship is chicken scratch with monkey dong smooshed all over it. I seriously do not understand how people can get their journals to look so pristine and neat, mine looks like I had a hot mess of a drunk night. WHEN I DON’T EVEN DRINK.
It’s times like that, when I see my journaling skills, I fathom that maybe killing off a zombie hoard would be better than trying to write or journal. However, I then end up finding myself writing an outline of how the zombie hoards rise up from the ground, and the hero/heroine/protagonist must figure out the next best plan; or become one of the undead themselves.
Writing will never escape me… Even when zombies rise from the depths of my thoughts and bullet journaling makes me draw squiggly lines.