Writer’s block, daily rejection and the internet

Having vowed to write at least one blog a day I was pleased to see that days 1, 2 & 3 flowed very smoothly indeed. Then today came and I sat here and stared at the page with not even a hint of a poxy idea.

I’m sure that writer’s block must be a hundred times worse today than it was 15 years ago. A typewriter just didn’t have the same distractions that the internet does. There is me, (when I’m not working, in my spare time I might add), wanting to write for a living and after a few words and a bit of a blank, I open up a new internet page and check my email (expecting to hear from some potential new clients) only it is to no avail. This then knocks me a little so I check Facebook (what for, I honestly don’t know) only to find no-one has Friend Requested me, messaged me or posted a message to my wall, or even ‘liked’ something I’ve written.) This action leaves me feeling rather friendless, boring and lonely (not to mention ‘sad’ although not in the unhappy sense of the word,) so I have a look at my blog to see if anyone has given me the approval I appear to be so desperately seeking. Nobody has even looked at my blogs, let alone commented on them. Shit. How about a look on eBay to see if that person I’d offered £50 to for a lovely M&S sofa has said yes. No response. Even THEY couldn’t be arsed to respond to me.

As a profession writing has long been associated with rejection, depression and loneliness but shit, doesn’t the internet compound them?

Only one answer, STOP SEEKING FUCKING APPROVAL! My partner’s mantra for as long as I’ve known him.  The bastard certainly never seeks any approval from me… 🙂

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What’s in a definition? A lot when it comes to Erotic Fiction.

Whilst glancing through my mum’s book collection the other day I came across the ’80’s novels,’ as I tend to think of them (for no other reason as I remember them being there in my youth.)  In amongst the Harold Robbins’, Jackie Collins’ and J.T. Edson’s nestled a huge collection of Mills and Boons. I actually read one once and wanted to gouge my eyes out afterwards so I wasn’t subjected to that tripe again.

So back to the present, this reminded me, with growing discomfort, of the time that a client who I did some copywriting and blogging for, asked me to produce some erotic fiction short stories for him.

I attacked the project with gusto, producing three extremely erotic stories, all situations and characters coming completely from my overactive imagination, a fact of which I proudly boasted to my client.

Of course, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Nobody shall ever again need to tell me that getting a full spec of the job in hand is imperative.

My client called me after receipt, in a state of mild shock. He apologised profusely for any embarrassment and explained kindly that he had required mild erotic fiction – otherwise known as ‘romantic fiction,’ i.e. not the hardcore porn I had presented him with.

Of course, certain words and scenes from my work flashed through my brain at a speed of noughts and I froze, absolutely crippled with embarrassment. Had I really used the word ‘c*nt’ (several times) in work I had presented to my client? What the hell had I been thinking?

At some point during the (one-sided) conversation his mild shock had been replaced by my disabling one. I didn’t hear most of the rest of the conversation as blood was rushing through my ears. However, he had obviously decided to forgive me and let me off the hook slightly as his parting words were, that whilst the work was useless for its intended audience, it would make some nice bedtime reading for him.

Life is one long guilt trip

Am I the only one to stiffen, involuntarily, in fear every time I see a Police car? I then check myself to make sure I’m not doing anything wrong like speeding or er, walking wrong…

This is no doubt deeply ingrained in me through propaganda planted in the newspapers, the BBC news, and the National Curriculum.

Then of course came the day when I had to claim JSA for a short time (against my will naturally – remind me to never read that shite in the Daily Mail again. I honestly only read it for the entertainment value of the outrageous comments made by its readers but perhaps its subliminal messages have been seeping in.) Again the fear crept in, as they did the best they could to make me feel as if I was making a fraudulent claim, even though I wasn’t and needed to feed my kids.

Talking of kids, this is where the guilt really kicks in! All day every day, I feel guilty that I haven’t done enough with them that day, that I’ve gotten cross with them for something, that I haven’t fed them healthy enough food that day, that I couldn’t be arsed to take them to the park…

Yes, I feel guilty all the fucking time, however I am determined that my children won’t be exposed to the National ‘propaganda’ Curriculum set by the elite who wish to remain the elite, that I was.  So, better keep up the writing and win that literary contract!

The novel

Even though from April to September this year, I wrote avidly every day – completing probably half of a novel (I’d say 40,000 words is half a novel, wouldn’t you?) – I seemed to hit a sudden brick wall. Fucking brakes (unfortunately my propensity for crap jokes continues with zeal and I can only apologise for what’s to come.)

I made numerous excuses, along the lines of; I can’t write because my computer’s broken; I’m going to France, I’ll carry on when I got back… etc.  Ok, both were genuine excuses but the computer got fixed and I arrived back from my (ahem) four-day trip to Paris and it is now December and I’ve written nothing for over two months.

The thing is, the book is a fucking cracker! I think I’m a little scared to revisit it because I know it needs a lot of work and a fair amount of scenes deleting, rewriting and so on; as well as another 40,000 words worth of work.

But I have a plan. A fellow writer friend of mine (who is also struggling to write albeit for different reasons) pointed out that you just need to find some time to write every day – even if it’s not very good (so I’m fulfilling that quota) just to practice.

My writing definitely was getting better and better between April and September so for the foreseeable future I will be wittering on and on and on, on here!

See you tomorrow!