Monday, 27 September 2010


When once the itch of literature comes over a man, nothing can cure it but the scratching of a pen. But if you have not a pen, I suppose you must scratch any way you can. ~Samuel Lover, Handy Andy, 1842

So often, as writers, we can be heard to bemoan the agonies of writing. The blank page, writer’s block, and procrastination, to name but a few. The non writer must be rather baffled as to why we do it. We are compelled to write but often it is the last thing we get around to doing. Our frustrations can be noisy, our blood and sweat, real. So we can hardly blame those, that aren’t driven to write, for wondering what it’s all about.

For me it is the thrill of creating. Of bringing into existence, characters, places and plots. I enjoy getting lost in another world, entirely of my own making. Worlds far removed from my own. I love getting to know my characters, to imagine what they would feel, what they would do, or how they would react in certain situations. I like to immerse myself in their internal battles, their external struggles and follow the path they weave to a satisfying resolution.

With each carefully selected word, each perfectly structured sentence and each paragraph loaded with conflict/ emotion/ description – we create and we breathe life into our ideas.

So what is it that makes you want to write? What inspires you? Are you a reluctant writer or a passionate one? Feel free to leave your comments.

I would like to set you a challenge. Above is a photo. Write a, 75 word, story or monologue and post it in the comments. It will be interesting to see what you all come up with.


Poetess said...

So to set the ball rolling, here is my effort.

Heather thrust har fingers through her wavy hair and pulled. Her characters were taking over, demanding freedom of choice - dictating their own decisions and actions. The plot had been turned upside down - not even resembling the carefully planned story she had mapped out. And the dialogue had run away from her like a thundering train. Exerting her authority, Heather forced their hand, only to find she had de-railed the entire book. Next time she'd listen.

Norma J said...

Heather was late for the short story workshop. She knew what the members were like; harsh, unforgiving, brutal in their criticisms and so her story had to be perfect. She was buzzing with Strength number 5 coffee, she was sloshing with Red Bulls, she was oozing chocolate. And she had done it – believable characters; succinct, pacey plot; not a single word out of place.
And now this.
The dog really had eaten her homework.

David said...

To be fair, it wasn’t the Open University’s fault. Janice had carefully chosen her courses to ensure that there was no day school involved, but it simply hadn’t occurred to her that the final exam might be a sit down one at a local community college. They’d given her a room to herself and an extra half-hour, and even a relaxation CD to listen to, but now, faced with the reality of the exam paper...

Linda Smith said...

The story had been kicking around her brain for years. It had kept her awake at night on a few more then a few occasions. Swapping this character for that one would make it more interesting. Would the alpha male hero really cry? It's too early in the story for that black moment! There must be a better ending! Never mind that, WHERE TO BEGIN THE STORY?

Post a Comment