Dear Self, Writers Actually Write

Incoming…Another rant.

I don’t want to write anymore.

Okay, I do but not like the person I am today. I want to write like the person I was three years ago. The person who didn’t give a rat’s ass about showing or telling and all the fluffy rules and grammar twang that came with writing.

Jesus!

So back then when I penned my first novel I did it with just thinking about the story and what I wanted to get across. And…of course, as a budding writer I wanted to learn more. I wanted to know the Dos and Don’ts of writing so I could be a professional at my craft.

Pbft!

Well, punch me in the face and call me…

Steups.

I put my fingers on the keys to write, and I do write but often I find myself stopping and over thinking shit. Like, why is the sentence passive, why use ‘was’ so much, try another fuggin’ word, Sheri. And before you know it, I’m in the refrigerator looking for juice, chocolate, and binge watching Netflixxy.

I expanded my knowledge and became overly critical of myself, leaving my writing to suffer. Yay me…

Hey, I know learning is essential. I just wish I did it a different way. I think I’ve absorbed so much that I want to put everything I’ve learned into one thing. (More like one sentence…)

I wish I was as naive as three year ago— writing love stories from my heart without editing, re-editing, erasing, deleting, and screaming. Oh, the blissful days. 🙄

I wanna write shit nonstop. I want to write into the middle of the night without thinking about whether the word I used was ill-fitting or stiff like cock!

I am grateful for all the information I’ve gathered to improve my writing process…I really am. But it ain’t worth shit if I ain’t fuggin’ writing, dammit!

I aim to end that by the end of the year. *Cough*

Two months ago, I removed Grammarly. That damn thing added to my handicap. Underlining shit. Suggesting stuff that didn’t make sense. I deleted its ass. My writing moved from one sentence to two. I did go back to the sentences though, but not because of Gra–

I could use “Mr G” but only after finishing a chapter or something. Ha… if I ever meet that far. I would take it with a grain of salt because I don’t want to replace the words sickly sweet with ill sugary. Like what??

Anyway… Before I get sued or something.

I want to move ahead. Make more stories. In 2018 and 2019 alone, I wrote 6 books. SIX!

This year? Zilch!

My keyboard got ants living beneath it. All that chocolate and snacks. (I am literally using my phone to write this rant. I’m afraid of the ants.)

When I start, it feels like a chore. No joy because I think about the wrong I’m doing. The atrocities. I probably look like a psychopath staring at was and -ing words. Ha! Passive words. Passive words!!!!!!!

*Bangs head on chest of drawers…*

I don’t have a degree in English. I have one in Social Work. I’m more a math person. But yet I’m writing.

Bruh…

To my future editors…Have a bottle of rum nearby. Not wine. Rum—so you can slap it on your forehead when you get a migraine.

To bad grammar and unedited writing…I want you. You were something good in my life. 😭

Okay that’s all the ranting for now.

If you hear back from me, I hope it’s in a positive light and I’ve decided to take part in NaNoWriMo.

And not getting thick off of dark chocolate.

If you felt this way at some point in your write-life, blink twice, comment, or hit the like button.

Thanks.

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