On Writing

Staring at a Blank Page

I have had this idea in my head for a novel for about 13-14 years now. It is the novel I must write to exorcise whatever is making me obsess about it.

I’ll hear songs and see characters in scenes because of it. Things I see, make me think of the characters, the story, the plot.

It has seen many pages written and trashed…the word count alone on what has been discarded could be a novel or two by themselves.

Yet…I cannot bring myself to finish it.

It’s forever changing and when I flesh out whatever problems I have had with the previous version, I find another problem. The idea is far from it’s original inspiration of a nightmare I had and it has seen many elements being added and removed.

I’ve tried giving up on the writing project all together, but it sits in the corner, mocking me…taunting me. I know I have to finish it and I can’t find the answers on why I cannot finish it.

Knowing I must is just not enough and that bothers me.

Categories: On Writing

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