Being A Writer Is Trying To Google Things As Inconspicuously As Possible So You Dont End Up On A Watch

Being a writer is trying to google things as inconspicuously as possible so you don’t end up on a watch list.

Anyway does anyone know how many pounds of force would be required to break a windshield with someone’s head?

Life imitates art -

or maybe art imitates life, but in doing that, it became much more beautiful that the original. What are the implications of that? Of course, life isn't bad. It's not always ugly - the world is beautiful, and the things that can happen when human souls meet are truly magical. But life is also raw, unstructured, unpolished. Which you can only say by comparing it to art.

Isn't that crazy? Art can only imitate life, imitate the human mind and the things we can imagine. But in doing that, it has found all the best versions of every moment, and now it can show us how things could be. Every piece of art is perfect, in the sense that it's more perfect than the world it came from - idealized, purified.

Connections between humans can be beautiful - this is only an example. Every kind interaction is pure in its own way. But do we still look at them the same after seeing how they can, literally, become art? All the hidden mechanisms between individuals have been analyzed and pondered for millennia, people have thought and felt, and then they took only the beatiful parts and put them together. Coincidental meetings turn into arcs. Awkward muttered words turn into thought-out phrases. This is how things could be. Is this how things should be?

We have admired perfection for so long that maybe, just maybe, we have forgotten that humans are clumsy, and so is fate.

Always the writer, never the reader.

I know this is a normal cycle of creativity slump.

I know that having a gigantic event this week is taking a lot of thought process, leaving less for creativity.

I know that this has happened before and has always resulted in creative outpouring happening again.

I know making slow progress is still progress and that's important.

I know there's life stuff going on that's taking up a lot of time and causing emotional stuff, and it's more difficult to balance work life on top of that.

I know all of this, but I'm still worried that I'll never get my creativity back, that writing will be this painstaking forever.

*white knuckle grip on the bathroom sink, through clenched teeth* you write because you love it - because you love it

Writing advice from my uni teachers:

If your dialog feels flat, rewrite the scene pretending the characters cannot at any cost say exactly what they mean. No one says “I’m mad” but they can say it in 100 other ways.

Wrote a chapter but you dislike it? Rewrite it again from memory. That way you’re only remembering the main parts and can fill in extra details. My teacher who was a playwright literally writes every single script twice because of this.

Don’t overuse metaphors, or they lose their potency. Limit yourself.

Before you write your novel, write a page of anything from your characters POV so you can get their voice right. Do this for every main character introduced.