July 26, 2016

That's right.
Writing a book (unless you're John Green or Cassandra Clare, God bless them!) is not an easy task.
The billion of questions you ask yourself in the process is absolutely enervating (first of all: why the hell am I doing it, at the first place?) and then, sooner or later, whether you want it or not, you will find yourself swinging in the corner of your bedroom, arms hugging your knees, eyes wide open, a nest on your head (but cool people like to call it a "messy bun"), whispering why why why why until, eventually, you calm down.

Not to mention the amount of coffee and tea we gulp down like it's some kind of drink blessed by God like we depend on it, and maybe we do.
But the thing is, it doesn't matter the struggle we face every day in front of our screen, it doesn't matter that out hands stop from typing due to a temporary lack of inspiration. It does not matter. We keep going. We keep pushing. We keep writing day by day, with the sun and under the night stars, because when you're doing something you really enjoy, nothing else really matters.

I started writing when I was in middle school. It was some kind of necessity: every time we got back to school, teachers gave us the same assignment every single year which was "write about your summer, where did you go, what did you do, the friends you made, the places you saw, the experience you lived" and every year I used to make everything up. We're a very small family and we usually spent our holidays visiting other relatives so there was nothing exciting in telling so, but I wanted to create something good so my holidays at my aunts became an exciting trip to Spain, or that hot day spent with my grandparents was a staycation at the most amazing resort nobody ever went to. Neither did I. But it was cool because as I read those papers, my classmates used to gasp and by the time I finished, their mouths were all open in surprise, admiration and a little jealousy. But it was fun.

And that's what I like about writing: the pure and simple fun of it; the magical bliss of creating new worlds, befriending new people, get attached to fictional characters that you made up. And I don't know if I will ever be able to finish this book I have my hands on, but ideas are floating in my head and as I transfer thoughts to paper, everything becomes real, tangible, absolutely magical.

No comments:

Post a Comment