The Way I Write

When I made the conscious decision to fully dive into writing, I did what I suppose many writers have done before me and what many writers will do in the future: I looked up various ways to write. I read about best-selling authors’ methods of writing and planning. I read my favourite author’s (Stephen King, if you didn’t know) opinion on writing methodology and I tried to find which one suited me best.

Research
There are various ways to write. Let’s analyse them all!

Not once did I even think then that maybe, just maybe, there was another way. MY way. A way that only I can do and only I can achieve. Again, throughout my life I feel like common sense was often acknowledged but never applied. In other words:

I was a dum-dum about many many MANY things. Including the writing process.

So is this blog going to be about my writing process? Well, I’m going to share the way I write (after all, I assume most writers and readers enjoy hearing about this stuff, I know I do) but mostly this is about how I beat myself up in the most creative ways possible.

Baka
A visual representation of beating myself up

I knew I was going to be an artist because I felt it when I was a kid and I read my very first comic. I used to read the adventures of Donald Duck, Uncle Scrooge and Mickey Mouse. They were fucking awesome. I would anxiously wait for Saturday as it was the day my parents took us to the bookshop and buy us comic books or books, whichever we wanted.

Picsou Mag
One of my favourite comic book magazines ❤

I was more than a reader even then as I would grab blank pieces of paper and draw my own stories of these characters. Spoiler: I suck at drawing. I hated myself for not being good enough to draw. Yep, I started beating myself up as early as back then. Dum-Dum.

I eventually stopped drawing (I doodled on my school notebooks and stuff, but never tried to draw comics again) but I did not stop writing. I would write different things: made-up stories, fanfiction and TV Show scripts. I was creative in many aspects of my life. I would play with Lego and action figures but follow a storyline (no matter how basic). I remember an awesome moment when I had Shredder face off with the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. Shredder was about to be defeated but PLOT TWIST: Michelangelo betrays his brothers. Gasp!

It was a shit ton of fun.

As I grew older, I got better and better at putting myself down. I would repeat to myself day in and day out that I was not good enough. I screamed internally at myself that I was deluded if I thought I had any ounce of talent. I beat myself to a bloody pulp. I almost killed my creative self and resigned to never follow what my heart truly wanted.

Sad Boy Tears
Is this the end?

But then that part of me didn’t die. I got back on my feet and decided that being miserable was tiring. It was fucking exhausting. I still heard myself say:

You’re not good enough, but now I also thought: So, what?

It was a start. I began to listen to my bruised heart again. Nurtured him and allowed him to share what he wanted. It hadn’t changed since I was a kid: he wanted to be an artist. A storyteller. A writer.

It took a while but now, I don’t hear myself say: You’re not good enough. At least, not as often as I used to. Once I was able to stop belittling myself all the time, once I stopped beating myself up constantly, I realised what was my methodology of writing.

I make up stories and chase these moments that make me feel like a kid playing with his action figures. That’s the way I write.

Writing Boy Sleeping

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s