Day 35

What happened to me over the weekend?

My friends all thought I was having a lazy weekend. And in many ways, it was very relaxing. And I also did not write anything. Not a word. The reason is actually simple: I was rather depressed for some reasons. It's not something I like to broadcast or talk about. But fact is fact. I guess I'm just like an engine. Sometimes you've just got to shut it down.

I'm also a man. An Asian man at that, and that means I do not talk about unpleasant thoughts much, let alone something such as depression. Granted, this isn't some deep, chronic, incapacitating kind of depression. More like a funk. Not unlike the weekly funk I've had recently. In fact, it's very much like that and I got to think, I never did have one of those funky times this week. In fact, I was feeling very good about everything this whole week.

Maybe it was just caffeine crash.

But again, the fact that I'm a man, an Asian man, makes it difficult by default to talk about "bad things." More often than not, my friends and family only know about the good things happening in my life. There's certain decorum, or facade, or whatever you want to call it -- to be perfect, to be smart, resourceful, cheery, polite, on top of the world.

I guess most people are like that -- no one likes to show their dirty laundry. And the fact is, no one can do anything anyway, except say, "Awww, I'm so sorry you're feeling like crap." So what's the point, albeit garnering some type of sympathy, in talking about negative feelings, mental states, or the woes of our lives. Leave those to fiction! And assign them to fictional characters!

Maybe that's what I've been doing as a writer? Maybe I've been projecting my own disappointments, sadness, etc. etc. on my characters? Or is it the other way around? Are my characters depressing me? The truth, I have been writing some heavy shit, something I would never in a million years wish upon others (well, except a few assholes).

And that's the thing: it doesn't matter which way it goes. The important thing is, we writers need outlets to let off steam, to get out of our own heads and to just live life, to experience something REAL. It's kind of ironic that I feel, at times, I need to escape to the "real world" while most people try to escape with fiction.


I did manage to feel better and write about 1500 words today. I also rearranged a few scenes; they now make more sense and, I believe, are better and more powerful as far as storytelling is concerned.

A good day.

1500 words, 16400 words total
330 days and 169100 words to go


Carpe Diem said…
The outlet thing is SO true. There are a couple of times a year, about two or three weeks at a time, when I don't want to know the last thing about my characters. I just stop caring about their love dilemmas or their endless personal crises, especially when they've been trapped in my mind for almost seven years now without setting them down on paper (or typing them down) definitively.

And then, after a while, I start feeling the lack of life within me and suddenly it all pops back in with full force and maybe even some ideas I hadn't explored before, surface. Those are the times when I feel more in touch with my story.

So I kinda cherish those "blank" moments, knowing everything will come back eventually, and better and livelier than ever.

Glad you're coming out of your blank moment, even if it was as short as a weekend.
Ray Wong said…
Yeah, everyone has bleh days. Mine just come every week. LOL.

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