Writing about Writing...AKA Graphophobia

A writer. I have always wanted to be a writer. This is buried deep in my early relationship with my mother where I always wanted to make her proud of me. Stephen King might as well have been my dad for how much she talked about him. She would tell me the plots to his stories and, even back in elementary school, I would rip them off and turn them in as writing projects.

Stephen King: Daddy?

I think I have written before about how I was held back in reading classes sometime in elementary school and this messed me up moving into middle school. I spent 6th grade in the remedial reading class until my teacher realized I was way too advanced for it. By 7th grade, I was not only caught up with my peers, I was taking creative writing.

Ms. Leatherwood was the second most influential teacher I ever had. I wrote horror stories that were sort of ungodly mash ups between comic books, movies I liked and King stories. I remember one I called the 100% Solution about monsters fighting each other that was pretty much just Monster Squad. Another one was called the Entertainers Club where one celebrity from every major facet of entertainment happened to be attending on the night that shadows overtook the earth (this was mostly Stephen King's the Mist but I am proud(?) to have thought up Vanishing on 7th Street 15+ years before Brad Anderson). She encouraged me and guided my writing. She got me into the creative writing program at the fine arts center for the summer before my 8th grade year. That was where I really learned to love writing.

It was also in my 7th grade year I went to Boston and the Plymouth Plantation that  was filled with actors trained to play pilgrims. One asked me what I wanted to do for a living and I said, "I want to be a writer." He said, "That's a fine way to starve." Which, yeah, back in the 1640s was totally true. But also, kind of true even today. From that moment on, I realized writing would have to take a back seat to something realistic.

George Singleton: My Personal Hero

I dabbled in poetry (such bad poetry, but I was praised for it once again) throughout the first couple of years of high school (and tried to find someone to draw my comic book ideas). My real writing started when I attended the Fine Arts Center my senior year (I had tried to go to the Governor's School for the Arts but was redirected to the Governor's School for Academics, which was still cool). George Singleton was, without a doubt, my biggest influence. He introduced me to short stories from Raymond Carver and Ron Rash and TC Boyle. He got me away from genre stuff and into "slice of life" stories. I think the best one I wrote that year was about a young man who figures out he and his father have both fallen for the same stripper. It was funny and had a little heart, one of the few times I hit that sweet spot of balance. I totally forget the name of it.

Raymond Carver: What We Talk About When We Talk About Writing

Into college I took more creative writing classes with Gil Allen, the man who taught George. He immediately could tell who I had learned from. Others in my class were still stuck on crime stories and elves but I wrote at least one good story called The Devil's Winter about a guy going on a disastrous date. I had already chosen psychology for my "realistic, don't starve" major because I was a good listener for my friends. I had lots of friends in the English department who I secretly envied for having the major I always wanted.

TC Boyle: Just read the story Termination Dust by the this guy and tell me he isn't awesome.

Upon graduation, I headed to graduate school where there was no room in my curriculum for creative writing (I did an intensive, one year masters degree program). This is when my writing slowly fell apart. I had (still have) the beginnings of about a hundred short stories, would-be novels and even flash fiction I began after the year 2000. It wasn't until my engagement fell apart in 2005 that I was driven to finish a short story (Five Movies). Which, by the way, is the last piece of writing I have finished besides comic book scripts.

Tim Gautreaux, another great short story and novel writer.

These were wilderness years where I had to come to grips with the fact that a real writer has to write. I only write when I am moved to do so. True, I get moved to do so on a semi-regular basis but I have no follow through. If I tell someone my story idea, I don't write it. If I know every beat of where a story is going, I don't finish it. If I don't know every beat, I don't finish it. I'm too tired, hungry, angry, distracted, bored, whatever. I always find an excuse not to finish a project.

If you only know his novels, check out Chabon's short fiction. It is great.

The last thing I got really into was writing a comic book called the Damocles Fugue. It was going to be a time travel kind of mindfuck comic but I couldn't fund the artwork on my own.

Lately, as most of you know, life has kind of opened some doors for me (doors to being broke as shit, mostly). But, for the first time in years, I have no excuse not to write. No job to burn me out, no girlfriend for me to dote on, no responsibilities at all, really. The past two months in Kansas City (and a little once I got home), I outlined 11 projects. 4 comics, 3 screenplays, 3 short stories and a novel. The idea is, I would sit down to write every day and roll two dice. The numbers 2 to 12 would correspond to one of the projects and I would work on whichever one came up. When one was finished, I would replace it with another of the same kind (like, if I finished a comic, I would come up with a new comic idea).

Irvine Welsh is one of those guys like Chuck Palahniuk and Nick Hornby that are writing somewhere between literary fiction and genre stuff. I eat it up.

The problem is, I can't get started. This very blog entry is an excuse not to write something else. I love my ideas, don't get me wrong. They are all over the map from sci-fi to slice of life to horror to comedy. There is enough there to spark my imagination and get me going. But here is my confession: I am scared. I am honestly scared to just sit down and write. I have always been my own harshest critic (99% of everything I have ever written is pure garbage, trust me). I delete page upon page if I don't find it up to snuff. I have probably deleted more than most people have ever written. I guess I am worried that I will sit down to write and nothing but crap will come out. And, you know, there will be days where nothing but crap does come out. That's just part of writing.

I guess the biggest thing holding me back is, if I don't try, I can't fail. I mean, besides a useless amount of knowledge about comics and movies, a lot of my identity is tied up with the idea that "yeah, I could be a great writer if I just bothered to do some." I mean, to find out the thing you think is a part of you is actually nothing special, how demeaning would that be?

Whatever my fears, it is time to suck it up and dive in. The results may be shit but I have to sink or swim now. My friend has started a "creative project club" where we all keep each other accountable for our projects. I need someone to harass me about it every day. I thrive on deadlines (realistic ones) and pressure. I do my best work at the 11th hour when I have to start something, push through the inevitable slump and then let it go exist without further meddling. Who would like to be the Burgess Meredith to my Sly Stallone? The Professor X to my Wolverine? Darth Vader to my Boba Fett? It is a thankless task that will probably get you bitched at by me but I really need someone to hold my feet to the fire and set goals for me. I know, it sounds like a dream come true. In the end, maybe you'll get to read something worth reading? Who knows?

Or maybe I should just quit whining and learn some discipline.