This is currently how I feel at the moment. About writing. It’s an uphill battle, with few chances for reward even in the event of success. Objectively speaking, there’s little to recommend it. It can be therapeutic – sometimes – but other times, it can make you feel like an unproductive failure who would be bashing their head against a brick wall if they weren’t a few bricks short to begin with.
I’ve spent the last few weeks (months, really) plotting out the details of what was originally intended to be a feature-length script. As I continued to flesh it out, I realized that it would be much better as a novel. Once I started writing, I immediately felt the need to reign some sort of destructive vengeance down upon the gods of exposition. I’ve rambled at length on this blog before about my writing habits and my writing styles, and differing voices and all that jazz, but this is the first omniscient third-person fictional prose narrative I’ve written in actually quite a while. (That’s a lot of qualifiers, I’d be suprised if it weren’t “ever”.) I’m experiencing a problem that’s altogether new to me in terms of writing. I can’t find the right voice.
This is an overarching problem for my creative side in film work, but it’s never applied to my writing style. I’m frustrated. Have I spent too much time writing in the first person, writing with (an attempt at) humour? Have I been blogging too much? Or not enough? Oh dear god.