A couple of weeks ago when Emma Watson made her “stirring”, “game changing” , “nope- not really-a-feminist speech” speech at the UN to launch her #HEforSHE campaign, I was inspired! I was feverish with desire to post a piece about Feminism. And I wanted to do it right. I took out my notepad , wrote down what I wanted to say , researched ( re Wikipedia-ed) the shit out of it. I was brimming with ambition and righteousness. After months of being blocked and without having anything worth writing about – I finally had found something ! This was a subject close to my heart and one I whole heartily believed in.
I just lost the desire to finish it. It just petered out. I felt it leave my body like a cushion slowly running out of air. Fffzzzzttt. Gone. And I was left blinking like a deer caught in the headlights.
I mean I went as far as actually writing it down as a draft and that’s where it has remained now for two weeks.
“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit on the typewriter and bleed”
Aaahh… The Draft box.
How I loathe thee.
Skeleton Coast of my dead inspiration and unrealised ambition! How many times have I thought and felt something stirring within and sat down to write and then left it there. Unfinished. Sentences and interrupted thoughts, just waiting to be finished. Mocking me . Doubt , doubt , doubt is all that remains and I quietly close you Draft Box and weep with frustration.
I’ve gone through my Draft box trying to figure out and decifer the mystery of why I cannot finish any of my essays or pieces.
I have come up with the following :
* wanting to write something after I’ve read a piece or article I found profound or moving and trying to write whilst still inspired by it
* doubting my prose or the structure of my piece
*trying to copy somebody else
This I’ve found is the greatest obstacle. It just zaps my creativity. It stops me from thinking clearly and challenging myself and I end up with whatever regurgitated drivel I’ve tried to copy. It’s probably guilt too. I know how hard it is to try and put something out. And I deserve to be blocked when I’m trying to copy somebody else. And those drafts deserve to linger right where they are.
I want to write. Of that there’s no doubt. Its finding my voice that’s the hardest part for me.
I’m probably going to have thousands of drafts and hopefully they will get less and less and I’ll end up with great stuff.
Inspiration where art thou?
Because I really need to write that piece on Feminism.