Well, I seem to be a little stuck in what I'm doing, so I might as well
try a different track for awhile to clear my head. If it works for
Nick...

***

I sighed and leaned back in my chair. It wasn't working. The whole damn
scene just was NOT working.

"Crap" I mutter and close the file. There are some days when I simply
CANNOT write. it just isn't there, that undefinable 'It' that allows me
to write. The well is dry, and I have to wait for the groundwater to
rise again.

Gee that's a stupid analogy. I SHOULD be able to come up with something
better, since I make analogies all the time. I started doing that when I
started writing. I took a creative writing class, expecting for my work
to be praised and worshipped, and to quickly have my work forwarded to
publishers who would dump truckloads of money on me to bless them with
my words.

... Okay, I wasn't quite THAT bad. But I WASN'T expecting the kind of
assault I got. My work was completely torn apart, and I was left with
nothing but shreds, both of my work and my self-confidence.

Still, afterwards I found I could take criticism better, could actually
LEARN from it instead of dismissing it offhand. It would still be awhile
before I could actually find the discipline to sit down and write more
than five pages without tearing it all up and starting again.

I have to laugh when I think about that now. Back then I was afraid I'd
never be able to write anything over ten pages. Now with the Revenge
Wars weighing in at somewhere around 300 pages, at well over 2 megs,
that concern seems so far away.

Not that even a large minority of that work is mine. With over twenty
authors ACTIVELY working on a project, things tend to pile up fast.

I shake my head at the thought of my 'pet project'. I really don't
understand how it happened, but the Revenge Wars changed from something
short and spammy to one of the most enjoyable writing experiences I've
ever had.

It's not the story. The story is secondary. What I enjoy most is writing
with others. How the ideas bounce off each other, combine, mutate and
become new, better ideas. How somehow the better authors aren't dragged
down by us hacks, but bring us up to their level. And by some strange
serendipity, I started it all.

I suppose I could have done other things with this time. I could have
written ten fanfics in the time it's taken to do what we've accomplished
so far. Most of the work has never seen the light of day. I'm probably
not going to get any major recognition for this fic, and even if it does
turn out to become a classic, the fame will be spread over the
contributing authors. I won't become another Biles or Lawson by writing
this stuff.

Not that I really want to. Now that I think about it, I DID want that
when I first started. The old arrogance wanted as much recognition and
admiriation as it could gather.

But now I see that's not really important. While working on this
project, I've gotten to see inside the heads of some of the best authors
on the FFML. Not only that, I've made friends with them. And because of
them, I've written on a level I've never been able to reach before, and
I probably won't again for a long, long time. I've been writing for the
sheer pleasure, and maybe that's what I was looking for in the first
place.

I know some people write to exorcise demons. Some write to express ideas
or influence people. Some write to make others think. Some write to make
others laugh. I just write because it's _fun_. When you're tapping away
at the keyboard, and the words are flowing from your fingertips and
everything is _working_... there's no better feeling. The characters
become real, and you can feel their joy, their pain. You stop writing
the story and just become a tool by which the story is told. And the
only way to get it is to write through the dry times, until the well is
full again.

After a moment I reopen the file and start working again. The well has
rejuvinated itself a little. I'm not sure how long it will last this
time, but I intend to take advantage of it. Maybe this one scene will
never be a masterpiece. Maybe no one will ever even get to see it, but
that doesn't really matter right now. Maybe it will matter when I reread
it, or when (and if) I decide to post it. But now, all that matters is
the story.

***

Does this make any sense to anyone? I'm not sure it does to me. Damn
serious moods... grumble grumble...

The Prime Sagittarian,
Alpha Centauri

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