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Writing Shit?

There’s one hobby which is more important than others in this whole blog endeavor, which of course is writing. Of course, this is because blogging involves writing, and in fact writing is the process I am going through right now. That being said, my desired state in writing is not writing blog posts, as excited as my car and my gamer buddies make me.

Shortly after I graduated college, I wrote a draft for a novel in about two months. This came from a combination of ennui and the creative frustration that comes out of ennui. That being said, the novel-writing process is something I fell in love with…and subsequently was never able to do properly again. Admittedly, framing it in that way does significantly understate the amount of work needed. My issue that has come up since has mostly been an inability to take my ideas seriously, and as a result I usually have one idea that I’m able to actually reflect on for roughly every six ideas that could make for commercial novels. But even that isn’t the problem currently.

I have an idea I really like, one I’ve been thinking about in one form or another for the last…year or so? It’s a bit of apocalyptic literature, though more of a “during-apocalyptic” idea than a post-apocalyptic one. What it comes down to is a reflection of society as it currently exists, and what it would look like if it was torn apart. The problem is…other than that, an opening scene that involves suburban sprawl, and a rough sketch of the protagonist, I have nothing. I could have something, but I don’t exactly know how to get something.

My last method was just to write and see what happens. I could, theoretically, do the same thing this time, but to be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely sure it worked all that well the first time. At the very least, I’d like to know how the story ends. Or maybe what the story is. There’s a setting, there’s a conceit, there’s characters…it isn’t enough.

The one thing I need is to figure out how I can start. I could do it the first time…though that’s more due to impulsiveness. Maybe more impulsiveness is what I need now. Or maybe just more time. I know this is a very abbreviated look at my attempt for long-form fiction, but it’s admittedly how I think. In the end, it only works if you just write. I think that’s what Ray Bradbury said too.

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