writing about writing

Words follow me everywhere I go because they fill up my head; they are an integral part of who I am. Sometimes, I wonder if it is normal to think in blog post or journal entries, in poems or short stories but that’s the way it’s always been for me. The world of my imagination is made up of words and only sometimes pictures that are then tried to be transformed into words and sentences immediately. It all accumulates inside me until one day, my capacity reaches its limits and they spill over, break free and see the light of day. These days, this mostly happens on this blog.

Sometimes, when I read a LOT, which is not happening so much these days, like reading the Deathly Hallows in 1.5 days, when I take a break from reading, random words just reverberate inside me. They can’t even be directed or formed into actual sentences. I always considered them to be an echo inside me of the words I just ingested, if you could call it that. It’s a weird feeling that I always wonder about if other people have experienced it like I did.

It’s funny how much words can mean even though they are just random letters put together when you think about it. The secret lies in what we attach with them – our emotions and feelings for the most part. We can’t influence the way letters form words but what we have influence over what we do with those words, how we treat them and string them together. Writing is an art. Not every person that writes actually knows how to utilize it properly and I’m far from omitting myself from said group.

I put a lot of stock into how sentences flow because I don’t know enough to care about anything else, like grammar. Words are there to express myself, to evoke emotions in those that read them in the way I want them to, a little bit like a puppet master. I’m afraid this all sounds too clinical for what I’m trying to describe, so let me try again.

Words are life, they are joy and despair all mingled together. Words are feelings. Sometimes writing feels to me, like I imagine regenerating feels to The Doctor if all the energy was channeled through his hands.

When the words just seem to flow out of you without having to put too much of a conscious effort into them. That’s the moment I love most. When you write without filtering or thinking. Naturally it isn’t always like that, sometimes trying to write is hard work and tedious; something I hardly enjoy at all. It is, however, a necessary step to get to the good stuff. Like peeling an orange. I guess, I just love how putting words into sentences makes me feel, looking at the finished project, especially if it’s something I can be proud of. Maybe this is all some long winded way of getting myself to finally start editing my NaNoWriMo novel. Why am I this busy lately? I don’t get it.

What are your reasons for writing?

Liked what you read? Please share it to spread the love!
  • I like words (and grammar)- breaking them and pulling them apart and putting them together again. I enjoy playing with them and thinking of them like they’re Lego pieces.

    I’ve always written random bits and pieces. One of my earliest memories is writing a poem about a tree {no joke}. As I grew older, I think writing became cathartic for me. I was {a lot more} volatile as a teenager and prone to huge emotional outbursts, and writing helped with that a lot. It let me hold on to my sanity.

    I think that’s partially why I still write- because it helps me stay sane and calm and work through what I’m feeling. My first instinct, when I feel too much bubble up inside of me, is to write. I think after so many years of it, it’s also just habit. Writing’s become a habit.

    side note: One of the things I’m most thankful for after studying {very little!} German is compound words- I don’t do it particularly well in English, but I love sticking words together to make new ones because the existing ones aren’t good enough, and English, silly thing, despite stealing so much from German; didn’t quite take to compound words nearly as much as I’d like.

    • Wilhelmina Upton

      Grammar and me have never been friends, not in German or English.

      Do you still have that tree poem somewhere? For me it started with filling up the blank spaces in the notebook I used to write down my homework for school in. I was bored in class and it all went downhill from there.

      I’d say that writing as well as running are the two only things that lways help me with staying sane. I think we’ve talked about this before, maybe I’m mistaken though.

      Compund words (I didn’t know that’s the name for them) are awesome. There are just so many possibilities. While I love making up words in general, sticking a bunch of nouns together to get a new one is probably one of the best thing about German.