A blank page stares at you while you struggle to tame the thoughts erupting in your head like pent up anger. You want so badly for it to be over, for your suffering to extinguish itself instead of throbbing like a stubbed toe. Words circle and clash together in your tired mind, rendering you unable to form sentences. A voice, however infinitesimal, echoes in the back of your head, urging you to just give up already and that you’ve been staring at your screen for an hour without typing anything.
All writers, experienced or not, want to
create a masterpiece. The mere act of writing takes such a courageous mind
because the downfall from failure can be devastating. This blog entry is a
collage of certain things I’ve struggled with throughout my eighteen (minus the
years I could not read or write…) years of writing.
“Oh,
you’re in literature?” scoff the Health Science students. Don’t think that just
because I don’t spend my weekends cramming for a chemistry exam that I don’t
work hard. Writing enslaves you, claims you as its victim and lets you crash
and burn alone when your ideas get mussed up between significance and meaning. It
is a process in which you mentally deteriorate yourself, rummaging for inspiration
through a brain that already contains enough self-doubt to choke a full-grown
giraffe. It is hardly more enjoyable than picking the nits out of a child’s
lice-ridden head. You hate yourself when you have nothing to show for your long
hours of reflection except for the same white page that has now blinded you.
In order to write effectively, you must
first clear your head of the discouragement that’s settled like dust upon
wooden shelves. If this is not possible, try writing about it. The best work is
always centered about profound emotion or feeling. If you find yourself
especially hurt or have just lashed out in anger, instead of running outside in
this now freezing cold weather and lighting up a cigarette, you should express
those gigantesque emotions through words - written words. What you write down
does not even have to make sense. Just write what you feel and you can look at
it later to edit it.
“Write… what does that say?” Write drunk,
edit sober. The wise words of Ernest Hemingway are engraved on my left shoulder
blade in my grandfather’s handwriting.
To take his words literally, one would
drink, write, and then revise one’s work when the drunkenness subsides. I have
tried this several times and I find the results to be either hilarious or disastrous.
However, being intoxicated all the time is
not the cure to your writer’s block (nor is it recommended). Hemingway learned that a person is not always the same all the
time. Every individual has at least two sides to them when it comes to creating
something. To “write drunk” is a way to liberate the self from haunting
inhibitions – best done when one is alone - and unleash the unabashed honesty
through words. If you’ve ever felt like you were “in the zone” at some point in
your life, this is sort of the same thing.
When you’re writing, you should also breathe.
Then you can pick up your pencil or quill or whatever it is you write with and write. Pour your whole goddamn heart
onto that page. If you happen to shut down, just save it and know that it will
be waiting for you when you return.
Natasha de Puyjalon
