I haven't been having the best couple of weeks.
It isn't because of school, or anything— so far, I really like my classes, and I actually have one with two of my friends, which is really great. I'm also doing sorority recruitment soon, which I'm excited for. My family is healthy, and doing well, so I really don't have much to complain about.
Except for the bane of my existence-- the thing that's given me more rage headaches than I can count, the reason that I spent thirty minutes staring at a word document last night only to write one word.
Currently, I'm working on two books.
One is a political satire/black comedy, which I've probably mentioned in my other articles. Just when I thought I knew where it was going, it took a left turn. My central character is a college student, who thinks he's an anarchist but doesn't quite understand anarchy. And, though I have a somewhat clear idea of what I want him to do, and what things I'm going to satirize— hypocrisy on both sides of the two-party system, the overlooking of third parties, the overpraising of certain social groups in our society, etc. — I don't know how he's going to get there. He's just arrived on campus, and while I have clear pictures of his friends and classmates, and what particular aspects of society they'll mock or represent, I'm not certain how to introduce them, and where to carry the plot. I have a beginning, bits and pieces of a middle, and no ending. Plots are truly a struggle.
The second one, which is considerably less developed, is something of a cosmic horror story. I've always been into the concept of the eldritch abomination, of a thing so visceral and removed from humanity. Hence my love of H.P Lovecraft and "Twin Peaks." But, again, I don't know where to take it. I'm considering adding in vaguely alien-like vampires, and it'll definitely be surreal, with the traditional small-town-with-dark-secrets, but I'm not a hundred percent certain on where it'll go.
This is a problem because, in order for a book to make any sort of sense, it needs to have a plot. I'm not William S. Burroughs, and this isn't "Naked Lunch" (although, technically, that does have a plot. Well, kind of.) And, truth be told, I'm not a good enough writer to pull off that ultra surreal, super artsy plotless writing. Maybe I will be one day, but for now-- I need plots, and that's where my block is strictly focused.
I've never been that great with plots. It's why I drifted towards poetry and really surreal, weird vignettes in high school. However, especially with my satire, I need the plot to prove my point. I have a lot to say, and I can't just ramble.
I have a lot to say, and I can't find the words.
I've always talked a lot. Always. There's a lot going on in my brain, and, as a result of being a voracious reader, I know a lot of sort of useless and pointless facts. I'm also SUPER opinionated, so it's pretty hard to get me to shut up.
And while verbal rambling is somewhat forgivable, because at least in person you have facial cues and verbal tones and can interrupt the speaker to get them to clarify, written rambling is not... Especially not when you're trying to tell a story.
I'll get past it. I always do, even if it comes back.
But writer's block is a recurring problem, one I fully expect to haunt me for the rest of my life.
