“Compose with me.”
Often times I’d try to sit down and force myself to write. I’d try to remind myself that it was something that came naturally, something that would never fail me. I, like many writers, have off days. I have days when I have the urge to write, but nothing seems to fit, nothing that comes out seems right. It’s not something that I could ever force, and that has always been something that worried me. For, if I ever do have to do things to meet a deadline, how true to my craft will I be?
I’ve spent a lot of time recently trying to take things back a few years. I’ve sat down, pen to paper and wrote without direction, without a thought out plot, without an entire list of characters. I’ve sat with my journal, one character, and whatever direction it decides to go in. It was exhilarating.
I was rummaging through my old things and found a few pages of books and poems I’ve previously written. Thumbing through them was a lovely feeling, for I saw just how far my writing has come and I’m incredibly excited to see what else is in store. Though, I suppose what I’ve taken away from writing about this is that I only ever enjoy the ride when it’s unexpected. I don’t want normal, I don’t want fixed. I want it to be raw, I want it to be real. I want whatever I put out into the world to have a reflection on myself and the way I want to be heard. For there is always a reason behind every writer’s voice, and I want what I write to express that in its truest form.