I am Stuck in an Eternal Abyss of not Being Able to Write, and it's Scaring Me.

Writing shouldn't be this hard. All it is, is choosing the right words to string together in order to make some kind of sense to anyone outside of your own mind. Plan, plot, write, thats usually the process, right? You think of something, you plan it, and then you go for it. But what if it doesn't work that way, what if you just can't?

I have been writing stories for as long as I can remember, and before that, before I learnt how to write them down, I would sit and tell stories to anyone that would listen. Telling stories was and still is as natural as breathing, I would think of an idea, and then another, and then another, and then decide on how they were going to link, and hey presto, I would be entertained for hours. Imagine the happiness I felt when I realised I could do that for a living?

The thing is, the older I got (get), the more blocks I seem to come across. Things get in the way that don't allow me to write, I get stuck inside myself, or I simply just cannot find the words.

I have been working on an idea of mine for about a year now, and it is my baby, I am proud of what it is becoming, and the developments it is going through. I know what I want to happen, I have planned, and re-planned, I have written and re-written, but I just can't find the words to write what I want and have it still make sense. I am in the between stage of wanting to carry on, and edit it all at a later date, or completely re-write what I already have, and although I can list a whole bunch of pros and cons for each, I just can't seem to make up my mind. 

There is a lot more to writing than the initial plot, plan write, but it is the base point from which you jump from and lay floating within the abyss with the thoughts, feelings, and words of your protagonists, antagonists, other kinds of ists,  along with the potential story arcs, plot devices and the dreaded pathetic fallacy that every novelist seems to include within their work. If I didn't believe that there was a lot more to writing than throwing words at a page, then the past three years I have spent doing my degree would have been a total waste. It's not just about the words, or how you use them, it's a mixture of the two, and everyone does it differently, a writer will have their own voice, their own style, and it's up to them how they use it. 

But even though I know all of this, and want to write, I honestly don't think I can. I am followed around all day by a little voice telling me to sit and write, to plan, to figure out a new character, to revamp an old one, but I just end up sitting and staring at the screen like a lemon attempting to use a spoon.

There is nothing I love more than hearing the click clacking of the keyboard as I am typing away, even now as I am typing this post, there is a little ball of warmth radiating inside of me that is growing, the longer/faster I type. Continuous typing, my brain likes that. It has taken me about seven minutes to get to this point HERE,  but in those same seven minutes, if I was writing something creative I probably would have just written my name, and maybe three words that wouldn't even make sense.

I know this funk will pass, but I am unsure as to when, and it's driving me insane. I just want to write words that make sense, why is that so much to ask for. ARGH.

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