Guys you might want to get out of the tissue boxes because we’re about to get sentimental.
Actually, let’s not.
I feel like a lot of times we, as writers, talk about the terror of the blank page. The fear of it and that little blinking cursor staring at you, waiting for you. We’re terrified of starting the story, of starting something new, or maybe just terrified that we won’t come up with anything at all.
But about like…the excitement?? Isn’t a blank page the most exciting thing?? What’s the worse that could happen??? You write something crappy. Oh well. Scrap it and start over.
The blank page isn’t going to kill you.
I was sitting here throughout the day trying to come up with a blog post. I would sit, stare at the blank post, wait, walk away, work on something else, come back to it again, stare, go do something else….until finally now it’s dark and I’m sitting here with one lamp on and a cold cup of tea (ew).
Just staring at the blinking cursor.
I started thinking back to when I first started blogging, back in like…uh, 2009???? (I’ve been blogging for over TEN YEARS??? WHAT?? *grabs a walking cane and shuffles away in my slippers mumbling at all the young whippersnappers* ). I was a child (12ish range. you know, anywhere between 9-14.), a child who spent the days gulping down books and running around with wooden swords and riding bikes on the grass with stories running through my head and constantly saying, “I’m bored.” (I…was a very busy child but also very hard to entertain.)
I was always excited to write a blog post. Something had happened that I wanted to write about, I had something on my mind that I wanted to rant and rave about. And I used to write I swear a new story every week (start it more accurate. Never finish). I’d open Word like it was a magic portal, sitting at my mom’s computer (like a computer computer, not one of those flat skinny things, one of those chunky boys from ye olden days). I remember summer days spent sitting there even as night drew in and I wouldn’t even notice till it was pitch black in the room, because I was still typing away.
I’d post blogs, get excited to post my writings on a homeschooling writers website (Please raise a hand is you were ever a part of Apricotpie.) Share my writing with friends and well, the big, big world.
I was reminded tonight of it all by sitting in my dark room, staring at the cursor with no music, someone talking on the phone in the background, me trying to think of a blog. I thought of how magical this moment would have been ten years ago. And really…it kinda still is.
So that’s it. Don’t be afraid of the blank page. It’s not as daunting as it looks. It is what makes the magic happen. That’s where your stories will be written. You got endless possibilities.
Not sure why people are afraid of the blank of the page. Maybe it’s fear of failure, fear that the story won’t turn out as perfectly as you have it inside your head. Maybe it’s the fact that the page is white and that’s a little harsh on the eyeballs.
Like, let’s not get rid of all the fun in this.
Silver is getting REALLY close to being ready to query, my lists of agents is being compiled and….I may have already thought of what I want to do for NaNoWriMo 2020.
Someone remind me that it’s ten months away. (“Well, that’s ten months to plan then!” I say.) Someone remind me that I have other WIPs to work on. And will someone else remind that I don’t care and I’ll do what I want.