ebbs and flows

Blog Post 10.

Writing a book is difficult.

The thoughts fly around my head, teasing me and evading my every attempt at a good, strong, clear grasp. I see them shimmer right in front of me, get a sense of their shapes. But I can’t hold them in my hand, can’t feel their true forms.

Sometimes I go at them with a large net. I catch the thoughts all at once. This is practically worse than catching none at all. It’s a jumbled mess.

The creativity ebbs and flows. The clarity of my mind does likewise. Pages are written only for it to be revealed that the words are impostors and not at all in accordance with my ideological intentions. When the right words do at last come, they arrive tangled. They must be combed and ordered and presented to your worlds in a reasonable manner.

Strangely, the hardest are anecdotes.