Terribleminds is my favorite writing blog. I started reading it because I know Chuck from college. Terribleminds reads just like one of his lunch table rants. Equal parts amusement, crassness, and a really good fucking point.
Today's post hit home and hit hard. And it's this bit that made me realize where I continually fail as a writer and why I keep hitting "writer's block".
Bleed From A Place Of Honesty
Cut your heart out of your chest, clutch it in your fist, and slam it down onto the paper. That is the real meaning of write what you know, which is probably better written as, write with total fucking honesty.
Take all that shit that lurks inside you, all your fears and wants and experiences, all your neuroses and psychoses and loves and loathings, all your hopes and dreams and memories, and inject ‘em into your work.
For fuck’s sake, say something with your fiction. Your father hit you? Spend a year homeless? Can’t get it up in bed? You’d kill a man just to walk on the beach? Use it. Use it! You have this monster-sized equation inside you, like something from one of those movie scenes where a lunatic mathematician scrawls out a nutso whiteboard full of numbers and symbols. Every part of this equation is just one more piece of you that builds up to this moment, this “you” that exists.
Bring that into your work. Feel something when you write. Find the bridge between you, the characters, and the story. Bleed on that page in a way that makes you vulnerable. I don’t care if you’re writing about vampires or space hookers or frustrated housewives, put yourself in there. I don’t mean, “be the character,” I mean, dissect all of who you are, and ejaculate your DNA into every cell of that story.
Always be telling your story, even when it’s not your story.
You’ll be amazed at how clarifying that can be.I'm not so good at the emotional honesty thing. I have a hard enough time revealing my innermost self to people I love and trust. I'm sure as hell not going to start opening myself up to a bunch of strangers. I fear vulnerability. I had to make myself strong when I was growing up so that I could survive. The flip side to that? Fear is holding me back in personal relationships and in writing.
I stalled out on my thesis because I began exploring a relationship that almost broke me. The fear struck and I drew back. I had the handy-dandy excuses of car accident and new projects at works and too much stress. But I can't avoid this forever. Sure, I could start a totally new story. But I don't want to. I
like the story that I started. I adore my spunky little protagonist. I can't let fear of my ex, my villain, hold me back. I know that logically, rationally. However, I'm having a hard time talking the rest of my brain into joining the party. So, how do I move forward from here?