In the middle of a conversation with
one of my oldest friends last night, I had an epiphany. It was one of those moments when you think to yourself “why couldn’t I have figured that out sooner?” If I had, the last few months would have been
an awful lot easier.
So what is this is amazing
epiphany? I finally realised that – wait
for it – writing is hard.
That’s it. Writing is hard.
I know it doesn’t seem like the most
shocking revelation in the world. I’m
not about to have the world’s leading scientists flocking to this blog to
marvel at my new universe-changing discovery.
The thing is it wasn’t always hard. When I was young, it seemed to come so much
more naturally. I don’t remember ever
spending the enormous amount of time I do now agonising over every little
detail, writing and rewriting then rewriting some more. It didn’t seem to matter whether or not I
used adverbs, or if I was telling instead of showing. The fourteen year old version of me wrote
naturally, and fearlessly. It seemed so
easy back then.
Now that I think about, though, wasn't everything easier then?
The fourteen year old version of me could also easily scale the kitchen
counter to reach the top shelf in the cupboard.
I haven’t tried it in a while but I suspect that these days that sort of
thing would end in tears. And an ambulance. And possibly death.
I suppose then that it’s ok that it isn’t
as easy as it used to be. Writing is
hard. It’s supposed to be. If only I’d realised it sooner, I might have
had fewer moments of anxiety, self-doubt and downright panic. Then again…
Coming soon on What Happens in Hayden –
my Hunger Games movie trilogy (otherwise knows as What Happens When The Movie
Geek Takes Over).
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