Trying to come up with ideas to write about is hard. It’s hard to be entertaining, funny, informational etc. I know I am able but all I kept thinking about was writing about how hard it is to write. So, it looks like this may have failed already. This will neither be informational or entertaining. Well, could be entertaining to some. People do eat blood sausage, after all.
The above first two sentences are obviously BS. It isn’t hard to write or come up with ideas. It isn’t even hard to be funny, smart or literarily charismatic. The difficulty, for me, at least, is trudging through the creative black hole that is indecision.
There is a constant battle in my head, going something like this; “blank” is a great idea, no, no one wants to read about that, what about “blank”, that’s terrible, You’re an idiot. Days later, I have 20 saved word docs with titles only and no copy. Meanwhile, the writing I do get done is a total fluke. I mean the topics and flow just appear out of nowhere. One minute I’m driving down the highway and the next I’m pulled over on the shoulder scribbling as fast as I can on a fast food bag.
Thought and writing coming at different speeds. My mind is putting together the concept and expanding on it as fast as possible and my hand is two paragraphs behind. I then slow my mind down but forget the wording that sounded perfect the first time through. My hand finally catches up to the second hand thought and off my mind goes again, racing away. My hand once again getting left behind.
This whole ordeal happens almost every time I feel I need to write. If I’m lucky I get smacked in the grill with the idea stick and poof, magic, in the form of me not convulsing on the floor trying to think, happens. And this need to write, where did it even come from? Whatever it is, it’s there, in me.
Ok, that second paragraph is total BS. It blows trying to write something to match my expectation, which, of course, is that I am a literary genius. I can’t write unless it’s a good idea but nothing I think of is good, which is why only the things I don’t think of get written.
Now you see what I have to contend with. The pen may be mightier than the sword but the mind controls the pen and this mind is stubborn and doesn’t want to write.
Here is a good analogy or visual or explanation of my mind when trying to write. And, when I say write, I mean about anything. I don’t have a set topic, which increases this dysfunction.
Imagine if Quantum Leap and MacGyver had a spinoff show where someone, me, leaps into different times in space and has to fix something or something bad will happen. The catch is that I don’t know what to fix and just as I might be coming up with a conclusion of why I am there and where that is, BAM, off to a new place. I just leapt (leaped?) out of my idea and landed in the unknown, again, and again, and again.
After all this you may be asking, because I certainly am, “why do you keep struggling to come up with ideas if they come to you randomly?” Well, I don’t know for sure but I feel I’m not going to get those lightning strike ideas unless I’m constantly wearing sock, rubbing my feet on the carpet and touching door knobs, trying to spark that very lightning.