trinsy | “That, however, is only the definition in Bizarro World!” (Reply)

Okay, so how weird is this?

1. I got dressed before noon.
2. No one had to remind me to vacuum and dust.
3. I finished my homework before dinner.
4. I read a magazine that wasn’t the Reader’s Digest.
5. I didn’t get on the Internet when I wasn’t supposed to (a first in about two years, I think).

Which is all totally bizarre, because I never get dressed before noon unless I have work/school/church; someone always has to remind me to vacuum and dust; I never finish my homework before dinner (and rarely before 11:00 pm); I don’t read any magazine except Reader’s Digest (actually, I don’t really read at all … contrary to popular belief, people who like to write do not necessarily like to read); and I am almost always on the Internet, whether I’m supposed to be or not. So it was a very bizarre, albeit very productive day. But the really weird thing has nothing to do with my newfound productivity. Well, actually, it does.

You see, ever since I finished Canis Majoris (and I’m truly sorry I haven’t posted the final chapter; I’m waiting to receive the banner for it) I have had the desire to write/been getting ideas for writing/been writing like crazy. I’ve joined two Round Robins; I’ve written a one-shot for a site project (soon to be posted at MNFF, although that wasn't the site it was written for); and I’ve gotten a crazy idea for an original story (rather akin to my story about the Clarke family, except the kids aren’t related, and instead of each one being named after a month of the year, their names are based off … er, never mind…). In fact the only thing I haven’t been writing is Masquerade Cliché (and I really must update it soon). Which is all very bizarre, and a bit annoying, because while I was slaving over CM I almost never wanted to write (don’t get me wrong, though, I never forced myself to write it; that would have been dreadful).

I’d like to think that finally finishing a story was a great turning point in my journey as a writer, and this happy state of affairs will last forever, but I know it won’t. And no, I’m not being cynical. I have, let me remind you, been writing since I was ten, and I know that this sort of thing happens. One day, out of the blue, you want to just sit down and write, write, write; it lasts for a few weeks, maybe even a few months, and then, one day, out of nowhere, you just can’t write anymore. The words won’t come; the ideas are stale; and the desire is all but gone (the longest I’ve ever been in this state was about six months, and I suspect it was because I was being forced to crank out, on average, one lengthy, in-depth, analytical paper a week for my English class). Eventually, however, the desire returns, often with a vegeance. And so, the cycle continues.

For now, however, I’m going to enjoy it. I’m sure the new “Jacob” kids won’t mind. And the Clarkes are probably glad of some company in Bizarro World…