A writer wants to work with words. A writer finds struggle and joy in using words.
I was full of doubt, anxiety, fret, and uncertainty when I went off to a writing retreat for a week. I kept torturing myself with just one word “writer”. What did it mean to be a writer? Why bother or why not? I strung myself up with those thoughts. I suffocated myself with those thoughts. And then I arrived. And the irony was that it is in those questions that I felt most like a writer. There were my people, writers, expressing their own version of the same thoughts that had overtaken me. And in that I found the peace I needed to continue writing.
Playing with words can happen in wild or in a structure, one guide I am using as of now is Brooks Landon’s Building Great Sentences – How to write the kind of sentences you love to read. And never did I think sentences could be the riveting characters she explores.
I worked on polishing my writing, on playing with words and then giving them new rules of the game. I wrote new pieces, but I also reworked a piece from here. And so I offer here, in the next post, what came of this all.
Reblogged this on collective failure.