All words presented in this blog are purely opinion, not fact - unless specifically stated otherwise in the post.

Wednesday 12 February 2014

Writers block

Don't you hate writers block?
I have it at the moment. I'm not sure what caused it. Maybe stress. Maybe depression. Maybe boredom. Maybe a lack of freshness to what I'm working on. I don't know, but lately I haven't been able to write the way I want to.
It's not that I can't think of anything to write. I have ideas still, I know what sort of thing I'm supposed to be writing, but... none of it comes out very well, or at least it doesn't come out the way I want it to. I find myself writing into corners, or writing an interesting piece of a scene with nowhere to take it and nowhere to put it.

For example, I recently wrote this:

There are few problems worth crying about that can’t be solved by reaching the bottom of a glass, assuming it’s filled with something worth getting to the bottom of. Of those few problems there are fewer still that can’t be solved by finding the bottom of another glass. If that doesn’t work then nine times out of ten the bottom of a third glass will see you right.
I believe that, truly I do. It just happens that my problems learned to swim a long time ago, still; every time I drop an empty glass down onto the table in front of me, all I can think is ‘maybe the next one’.
I ain’t nothing if not persistent.
No rent, no money to pay for the next glass, no jobs to speak of. At least the shop I got this cheap bottle of scotch from ain’t cottoned on yet that my tab ain't gonna get paid. I pour another glass and re-cork the bottle, standing it up on the edge of my desk.
“I move funny, that bottle’s going to fall and smash on the floor…” I noted, bleary eyed as I laid my head down on my upper arm, holding the glass outstretched ahead of me. I didn’t retrieve the bottle. I just realised what would happen.
Masterful powers of detection still count when I don’t use the information.

Now I like this scene. I Think it flows quite well, but it starts and finishes. It doesn't leave room for anything else and it greatly requires to go onto something or come from something. My only real thought (which I got by my friend Liz saying it to me) was to write a prologue about the reason his life is so shit.
It was a good idea, I liked it and I gave it a shot, but... well that scene didn't flow. Theres so much I need to put into it that it just didn't make sense.
I wanted to explain everything without outright explaining it and when your character can communicate with ghosts, can travel to and from the spirit world and is a world class detective it's a little hard.
I'm going to keep giving it a try, but... yeah writers blockages :(

In completely unrelated news I set up a channel to broadcast me playing PS4 games (I know you are totes interested in such things).
The web address is I'll tweet and blog when I'm going to be doing sessions.

Other than all that there's not much to say. Liz's baby is doing well, it's 13 days old today and things are starting to edge back to normal.

- James

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