Do you ever find yourself without anything to say? It’s happening to me right now. I’m sitting in front of this blank Word document, and I have no idea what to say in this blog post.
I could tell you about how my latest novel is going, but it’s only so interesting to hear, “I’m finishing Chapter 14 of 15, and then I have to go back and re-edit and do a second draft and blah, blah, blah…”
It makes me think that writers by nature tend to be fairly self-centered people. After all, we post updates on our progress, hoping that someone(s) will say, “Hooray! I’m looking forward to reading the latest brain-cloud that you are now turning into something you’re trying to sell.” It’s like we’re putting ourselves out there in search of validation from an external source, when really we are kind of insecure little boys and girls on the inside.
I wonder what that says about readers as well. Why would someone read a story that comes from someone else’s mind? Are we so desperate to distract ourselves from the s*** in our own lives that we have to gobble down someone else’s c*** as a temporary relief? Seems pretty much the case, but I guess that’s what makes a story so interesting.
A story does exactly that: it pulls you out of your own life and puts you in the life of someone else who is having to deal with their own crises. You get this god-like view of someone else’s suffering and trials, and the whole time you read a book you’re almost rooting for things to go from bad to worse just so that the story gets better. After all, it’s only the insurmountable odds and huge challenges that make for a great story. No one ever reads the story of “The Day I Went Shopping at Wal-Mart and Came Home With All the Groceries I Needed”.
I apologize for the random post, but that’s what was on my mind at the time. I promise that the next one will be much more coherent and organized. Cheers!