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The Human Experience of Writing
By Stephanie Kemp
The Human Experience of Writing
By Stephanie Kemp
(Reluctantly written on 6/26/2022)
You sit.
You panic.
You scribble a line version of @Y$*#$U@$#@%&!
You wonder EverySingleTime what and where the words are.
You SWEAR (but only in your head so you don’t seem crazy…even though no-one is there).
But then…
If you keep the pen moving across the page (use a PEN!), you stop caring…
…looking
…avoiding
…making excuses.
You remember to breathe (and then forget again) as your mind (not your brain!) starts tapping a tune.
The tune might be terrible but it is yours.
And you realize from your gut (who also wants to play) that:
NO ONE CARES.
But, you should…
You DO.
Then you remind yourself that no matter how much you care, your pen will still try to do this:
…And that too much of all that nothing will make you want to quit again until you realize:
1. that you might soon be out of time (in this exercise and/or on your singular journey around the life loop).
2. that you still need to write all about your hateful shoes, your mom’s secret life as toddler cowgirl, the inadvertently delicious breakfast scavenged from your daughters’ crusts, that dream where you touched your husband’s arm again, that friend, those fuckers, EVERYTHING.
3. that you actually believe all that shit you tell kids about “Everyone has a Story…”
4. that you believe it because the kid in you is still making the grown up curious (thank god).
5. that even the fuckers have some nice qualities, which writing somehow makes you want to acknowledge and include in your story.
Then before you know it, you’ll be sad that you have to wrap it up to head back into whatever you have deemed your real life to be and that (because writing makes even #5 possible!), there is no turning back.
THE END.
(not really*)
*or ever..........which is an additional bonus feature of the human experience of writing.
Special Thanks and #$%*@!$&! to Bill K. and Laura M.
You sit.
You panic.
You scribble a line version of @Y$*#$U@$#@%&!
You wonder EverySingleTime what and where the words are.
You SWEAR (but only in your head so you don’t seem crazy…even though no-one is there).
But then…
If you keep the pen moving across the page (use a PEN!), you stop caring…
…looking
…avoiding
…making excuses.
You remember to breathe (and then forget again) as your mind (not your brain!) starts tapping a tune.
The tune might be terrible but it is yours.
And you realize from your gut (who also wants to play) that:
NO ONE CARES.
But, you should…
You DO.
Then you remind yourself that no matter how much you care, your pen will still try to do this:
…And that too much of all that nothing will make you want to quit again until you realize:
1. that you might soon be out of time (in this exercise and/or on your singular journey around the life loop).
2. that you still need to write all about your hateful shoes, your mom’s secret life as toddler cowgirl, the inadvertently delicious breakfast scavenged from your daughters’ crusts, that dream where you touched your husband’s arm again, that friend, those fuckers, EVERYTHING.
3. that you actually believe all that shit you tell kids about “Everyone has a Story…”
4. that you believe it because the kid in you is still making the grown up curious (thank god).
5. that even the fuckers have some nice qualities, which writing somehow makes you want to acknowledge and include in your story.
Then before you know it, you’ll be sad that you have to wrap it up to head back into whatever you have deemed your real life to be and that (because writing makes even #5 possible!), there is no turning back.
THE END.
(not really*)
*or ever..........which is an additional bonus feature of the human experience of writing.
Special Thanks and #$%*@!$&! to Bill K. and Laura M.