Writing Ramble
Mar. 23rd, 2007 10:44 amStill blocked in the writerly way but after a good chat last night, I’m feeling a little hopeful. It’s weird how talking out issues, even in an off-hand way, makes me feel better. I guess because when I discuss problems, I try to be funny, and any problem I can laugh at seems less daunting*
One stupid Shelley joke gave my imagination a couple of nice jolts. Ah, tasty mental pictures. No better inspiration. And such a great feeling, inspiration. Even if it did dredge up the idea that good ideas and fic inspires more good ideas and fic, while cliché’d, poorly written fic begets cliché’d poorly written fic. The begetting idea tainted the inspiration because really, the Shelley joke wasn’t that grand, that exciting and new. Ideas like that should be all over wrestlefic. But instead, most fics are the same old, same old (and the same old wasn’t all that good in the first place.)
I know I’m going to end up regretting that I'm flinging around the innovation concept because yeah, if this fandom was chock full of written-the-way-I-like M. Hardy/Taker non-con, I’d be running around, squawking “No! Change nothing!” I’m painfully aware that M. Hardy/Taker isn’t innovative at all. The Soap Opera In My Head hinges on an E&C backstory-- bitter, convoluted, spite-filled, not-your-usual E&C, but E&C nonetheless. Seems shitty of me to expect innovation from others when I’m not demanding it from Opera.
So am I defaulting to an innovation wank because I can’t define what I’m actually seeking or dissatisfied with? Yeah, lamely. Same with quality wanks. Grammar gaffs don’t annoy me as much as I profess—usually it’s more a case of “Yay, I noticed it was wrong. Go me! I would not have recognized that as an error 6 months ago.”
I don’t know what is the deep-down problem. Or rather, I don’t know but I have my suspicions. And that’s causing some of this block. Not all of it, because ultimately I have to put my lard in a chair and write. Whether or not I’m surrounded by substandard writing should in no way factor into my ability to create. But, whenever I try plot out a fic or play with an idea, I get a sense of futility like I’m throwing stones off a cliff or yelling into a void.
Not a void in terms of feedback or response. I’ve given up feeling low over that. It’s something closer to boredom. There’s nothing to chase. No one to keep up with. Nothing that makes me happily jealous, wishing I wrote that or thought of that pairing, written in that so-obvious-now situation.
Boredom makes for fear. Fear that my ideas really aren’t as innovative, unique or incredible as I’d like to believe. There’s not much pride to be had from being slightly less stagnated than a stagnated population. There’s even less pride to be had from improving beyond them. Easy victories aren’t really victories. It’s depressing to realize that my writing’s perceived improvement comes more from being judged in tandem with bad stuff than from me actually improving. No glory in that.
* Except for work projects. Then “hahahahhaha” is polite code for “Wow. I’m fucked”
One stupid Shelley joke gave my imagination a couple of nice jolts. Ah, tasty mental pictures. No better inspiration. And such a great feeling, inspiration. Even if it did dredge up the idea that good ideas and fic inspires more good ideas and fic, while cliché’d, poorly written fic begets cliché’d poorly written fic. The begetting idea tainted the inspiration because really, the Shelley joke wasn’t that grand, that exciting and new. Ideas like that should be all over wrestlefic. But instead, most fics are the same old, same old (and the same old wasn’t all that good in the first place.)
I know I’m going to end up regretting that I'm flinging around the innovation concept because yeah, if this fandom was chock full of written-the-way-I-like M. Hardy/Taker non-con, I’d be running around, squawking “No! Change nothing!” I’m painfully aware that M. Hardy/Taker isn’t innovative at all. The Soap Opera In My Head hinges on an E&C backstory-- bitter, convoluted, spite-filled, not-your-usual E&C, but E&C nonetheless. Seems shitty of me to expect innovation from others when I’m not demanding it from Opera.
So am I defaulting to an innovation wank because I can’t define what I’m actually seeking or dissatisfied with? Yeah, lamely. Same with quality wanks. Grammar gaffs don’t annoy me as much as I profess—usually it’s more a case of “Yay, I noticed it was wrong. Go me! I would not have recognized that as an error 6 months ago.”
I don’t know what is the deep-down problem. Or rather, I don’t know but I have my suspicions. And that’s causing some of this block. Not all of it, because ultimately I have to put my lard in a chair and write. Whether or not I’m surrounded by substandard writing should in no way factor into my ability to create. But, whenever I try plot out a fic or play with an idea, I get a sense of futility like I’m throwing stones off a cliff or yelling into a void.
Not a void in terms of feedback or response. I’ve given up feeling low over that. It’s something closer to boredom. There’s nothing to chase. No one to keep up with. Nothing that makes me happily jealous, wishing I wrote that or thought of that pairing, written in that so-obvious-now situation.
Boredom makes for fear. Fear that my ideas really aren’t as innovative, unique or incredible as I’d like to believe. There’s not much pride to be had from being slightly less stagnated than a stagnated population. There’s even less pride to be had from improving beyond them. Easy victories aren’t really victories. It’s depressing to realize that my writing’s perceived improvement comes more from being judged in tandem with bad stuff than from me actually improving. No glory in that.
* Except for work projects. Then “hahahahhaha” is polite code for “Wow. I’m fucked”