The Pain of Writing — A Nightmare Found in Simple Words
Why writing is so hard (always) sometimes?
Writing is easy. Just sit in front of your typewriter and bleed. — Ernest Hemingway
I started writing my first book this year, and it has been a journey full of ups and downs. At first, it was fun because even though I didn’t know much about the story, I knew where I wanted to take it. The fact that I was creating a world in my head made me feel a bit more special. The problem started when the story unfolded, and I set up the whole structure.
As a young man, I didn’t get to read hundreds of books, watch hundreds of movies or write hundreds of texts. Because of that, I haven’t perfected all the techniques needed to bring a good story to life, and that’s why I decided to draw inspiration from my own life experience. That was my biggest mistake.
The leading character is me, a few years apart, with some personality changes and a different life. However, the family structure is very similar, and that’s my weakness.
When I was getting halfway through the story, I started to feel bad, not only because of the heavy pace of the story and how often I’m writing (more than 20 days in a row waking at 4 am to spend 3 hours thinking about EVERY word), but mostly, because I wasn’t finding the story interesting; maybe it’s because I already know everything about my projections of the future and past traumas, and that for me is nothing abnormal, it’s just my life and my mind. My tempestuous mind.
Now that I’m past the first part and the gates of hell have opened wide for the disasters I planned to happen, I wonder if that’s what I want to do. Does using my life as inspiration for a book, and projecting a future of death and suffering, make the reader empathize with my character? I can’t tell. I only feel sad when I imagine the tiny possibility of the things I write becoming real.
When I talk about the pain of writing, I don’t mean physical pain. My fingers don’t tire. I could type for hours and hours without stopping. The problem is my non-functional mind, and even though I think about tragedies all the time, I’ve never built an entire universe to detail these disasters. As I write, I cry as I see ruins following my characters.
I am not an author. I am just a young man trying to vent, but writing only half of a book, I could see how difficult it is for an author to write a story that doesn’t have a happy ending. I don’t know if they use experiences as personal as I am, but I can imagine that at least a tear falls from their eyes when they decide that such a lovely character will suffer.
Today would be the 21st day in a row writing more than 1000 words, but today I decided to take a break because I can’t take the pain of imagining disasters happening anymore. Seeing characters inspired by people I love suffering hurts me. Writing things I hope will never happen made me feel guilty about doing evil and creating a universe of pain and suffering.
Tomorrow I will come back to write another 2000 words, and the tragedies will continue. Unfortunately, it needs to happen, and I apologize to myself and my characters for putting so much anguish into these pages. Sorry, I can’t take it all to myself anymore.
I learned early on that writing is self-sacrifice, that I will continue to suffer as I write, and that I will never like what I write. However, at no time can I give up writing. I can’t leave a story unfinished and keep a harrowing ending inside me because writing is the only way to get rid of the pain.
Writers, tell me what you feel when you’re writing.
Readers, cherish the writers you like!
