This Is Why I Write

I don’t write for a living, although I’d love to. I do it mostly for myself, since there are stories that I’d like to tell, or I need to get some pure hatred tapped out of my veins, or I feel like talking and there isn’t anyone around. So it comes down to the main reason I write: for fun.

Sometimes, though, man. Writing can be a real bitch.

Writing is like trying to build a house with a pile of wood, some nails, a hammer, and your own skill and talent. There are days I feel confident and relaxed, and I can nail some boards together to form a relatively straight wall. Other days, you find your hammer has been replaced with one of those novelty squeaky hammers, and every nail is the size of a harpoon, and the wood turns out to be made of goddamn concrete. You pound and pound and pound and you end up going absolutely nowhere.

Then there are the other days. On those days you are just going along, and the next thing you know, you’ve got the Hammer of the fucking Gods in your hands.

Those are the days I live for. Those are the days that make all the days of shit and frustration and anger seem worthwhile. It’s one of the greatest feelings in the world. There is absolutely nothing like it.

Today, man, I found myself holding the Hammer of Thor. I didn’t ask questions. I just smashed the ever-loving shit out of everything in front of me. It was awesome. Maybe no one on earth is gonna like it, and that’s OK by me. I loved it. I still do. I had tears of fucking joy in my eyes today while I wrote something. That – that was a pretty good fucking feeling.

The Storm of Northreach, at this point, is one awful-looking house. It’s ramshackle, meandering, ugly, mismatched, and patchworked all to hell. But there are parts of it that work. There are a couple of rooms were the walls meet the ceiling, and the angles are pure Euclidean. Those are the rooms I’ll keep through edits. The rest… well, there’ll be a little remodeling, some serious spackle, and maybe a few plants to cover a few bad spots. I can live with that. I’m getting really close to having a finished house. That makes it all worthwhile.

About Alan Edwards

Former cancer caregiver. Husband of the most magical and amazing person who ever lived.

Posted on September 30, 2011, in Kerfluffle and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. Hell motherfucking yes!!!!!

    Congrats, man. I knew you could do it, and I can’t wait to go and hang out in the living room of this ramshackle house and light up a stogie.

    • Hopefully I’ll be able to hammer some boards over the holes in the floor at least, and add a comfy chair or two!

  2. I concur with Steven. Hell motherfucking yes! Are you doing Nano this year? I’m guessing not since you just finished your book, but if so, find me. I could use some inspiration like this! 🙂

    • I will try it again this year, since I have another project I’m currently working on. Let’s do this thing!

  1. Pingback: Author Interview: Alan Edwards :blood skies

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