Sunday, July 20, 2014
Well, it's been a while. So I randomly ramble.
Something or other.
I've been trying to write fiction more, whether I'm inspired or not and whether it's good or not.
I also sent off for a magazine of short stories and essays, to see what they publish, on the theory that maybe perhaps possibly I might start submitting pieces. Eventually. Before the next ice age.
It's a magazine well out of my league, but I figure I may as well start the submitting with a publication well out of my league, and then work my way down the ladder. Maybe. The flaw with that plan is that if I make a fool of myself, I'll actually care if anyone remembers.
It's a thicket.
Inspiration is also a thicket. I've always preached against the concept of writer's block, preached that you can always write. But while you can always write, there's still a big difference between writing while inspired and writing while not.
I'm uncertain about all my conclusions in this post, aren't I?
The reason I say "I think" is that sometimes I write something in the uninspired way, laboriously carving all the words and sticking them together with chewing-gum, and then when I read it again it feels as if I was kinda inspired. And sometimes I have that inspired feeling, with the words bubbling up and arranging themselves effortlessly, and the result looks like junk.
So maybe inspiration is just about how much fun it is, and not how good it is.
That's actually rather depressing. Because I was hoping that I'd eventually find a way to get inspiration to come...well, not on call, but at least more often than once in a blue moon, and that writing fiction would be more fun at those times. Maybe it's going to always be about chewing-gum.
That seems to be all.