Free Writing: Some Friendly Encouragement From Your Internal Creative Muse!

(written in September 2011.)

Self-sabotage – the act of writing is undercut by the expectations of the unformed story. Each sentence, each choice of word and phrase is called into question. What should be the simplest thing in the world – telling a story – becomes so laden and fraught with complications as to make the task insurmountable. Free write – go on, go on, free write – but don't just type the same thing over and over again. And don't resort to gibberish – that's not writing, that's just pointless motion of the fingers. And don't start just writing down your thoughts – that's called 'journalling' or 'keeping a diary', and look where that got Anne Frank. And DON'T start getting distracted by the slight wiggle from the loose battery on the bottom of your laptop, or the bit of food stuck in your teeth, or the fact that your friend may have sent you an instant message in the other window! Just – free write! What's so fucking difficult about that? Huh? Can you tell me? Quit censoring yourself and let the story come through – Okay, here we go: "The dog was – the dog went – the dog sitting by the side of the road had a mournful air. It cocked its head alertly enough though, following the pickup truck which-"

-You're starting with a dog? What the hell is that? You're supposed to be free writing, allowing your subconscious thoughts to percolate and bubble to the surface as you type the words, revealing the innermost secrets of your mind to an uncaring world and apathetic (or more likely non-existent) audience, living the nobility of art – creation sheerly for the drive of it, a desire to create your own worlds and populate them with characters of your own design, and you choose to start with a DOG? And then what? More journalling, more self-censure, more pretentious artsy bullshit! I told you before, just free write! Are you stupid?

HEY! Don't lose your train of thought – just keep on writing! Yes – yes – I know, I know it's crap, but you've chosen to inflict this on yourself, no one's forcing you to write. You were the one just talking that high-faluting drivel about the nobility of art!

What? Oh, that was something I said? Well, then it's brilliant – but your stuff is still repressed and sophomoric. DON'T go back and start reading through it now – are you fucking retarded? STOP REVISING and KEEP WRITING – don't look back, think of Lot's wife, pillar of salt, pillar of salt, must keep going AND DON'T DELETE THAT WORD 'RETARDED', YOU SNEAKY CHICKENSHIT! I said what I said, and it's going to look like you said it, and are all offensive and politically incorrect, which will be perceived as pandering to the lowest common denominator by some people, but then others – Hello? What does it matter what others think? I thought you were just doing this 'for you'? Isn't that what you always tell people?

Wait. Whoa – you mean – you ACTUALLY care what others think of you? You want them to like your stuff? Jeeeee-sus. Oh – my – sweet Lord (there, now I've made you blaspheme too – you heathen motherfucker)... It's worse than that, isn't it? You don't just want them to like your stuff – You want them to actually like you!!! You as a person – I'm laughing so hard I sprayed beer through my nose! Please, give me a minute to recover from that knee-slapper – what? What beer? It's metaphorical, you dimwit! Obviously it's not real beer, any more than it's a real nose – No, I knowyou have a real nose, and to some extent it's my nose also, but obviously, that's NOT the nose out of which the beer gushed when you admitted your pathetic neediness, is it? Even a numb cunt like yourself ought to notice something like that. Fuck – you are entirely hopeless. I don't even know why I bother trying to help you. QUIT going back – I swear, if I see you go for that 'delete' key one more goddamn time, I will make you regret it, so help me. You are just so frustrating! I mean, it's only 'free writing' – all you have to do is type for a little while, let your thoughts out and keep going. When you do that, and keep doing it over a period of time, then you will have 'written something'. It won't be enough to redeem you from being an utter waste of space, but maybe it'll finally cheer you up – my God, you are such a fucking wet blanket it's a wonder anyone can put up with you at all. Yeah, it'd be good for you to finish writing something. Obviously it too will be shit, just like everything you do, but if it gives you a sense of accomplishment, hey, go for it. HEY! I warned you about that delete key! Now you've done it!

What? Who am I?

I am the voice in your head – the consequence of your choice to be a writer, or maybe just your choice to be human. I will scorn you and mock you, I will denigrate your efforts, remind you constantly of your innumerable shortcomings and failures, and poison every part of your life that I can touch. I will ride around in here dragging you down and stopping you from achieving your potential, bludgeoning you with self-doubt until you're a quivering mass of shame and futility, incapable of either formulating or expressing a coherent thought. I will never leave you alone, and you will never succeed at anything.

What, you'll 'kill me'? Kill yourself, you miserable twat – only lunatics spend their time arguing with voices that aren't real. You may think you've got an acceptable cover, being a 'writer', but everyone knows you're just a sad fucking nutcase. You must be, right? Otherwise, how could we be writing this?

Oh, and if you ever do manage to ignore me long enough to make me go away – congratulations, you'll still be an asshole loser, but at least you'll have lost the self-awareness.