I skipped my post last Saturday because I was tired, and I was angry and worried about something entirely out of my control, and I didn’t want the vitriol from that to spill out into my blog writing. Particularly since Saturdays are when I try to stick to topics related to building a writing platform, which is a topic I find stressful enough as it is. Natural web guru/marketer I am not. I believe it’s something I can learn to be proficient in, but thus far it’s not something I enjoy working on, so I decided to simply do my usual writing and not push it with the stress.
(Sometimes taking a break is essential. I hate taking breaks.)
Writing while emotional can be cathartic. It can let you work through it. It also provides a great reference for when you write a character going through that same event, because then you know what you were thinking and feeling and why and it just helps make the scene more real. Everyone knows this.
What I am slowly discovering is that there are exceptions to this. There are moments when if we allow ourselves to say what we’re really thinking, it will hurt, both ourselves and others. Sometimes we have to get a grip before we say (or write) something we’ll regret. Some things need to be forgotten because if we hold on to them it will just poison us from the inside.
Sometimes it’s better to stop altogether, leave the house and find somewhere peaceful.
I’m still angry, but I’m choosing not to dwell on it. Now if I write about my particular issue with this particular thing, it’s more like gently exploring a feeling, tracing a pattern before it fades completely, just so I’ll remember it once existed. Not imprinting it into my psyche. Not making sure that everyone hates this thing as much as I do by writing a scathing little piece of venom that is less about justice or what I think is write than it is about twisting every piece of evidence I can come up with to prove that the object of my loathing deserves it. This is my problem, and I’m trying really hard not to add to the collective vitriol that can ooze out of the Internet.
So I’m writing. I’m up to the climax of my novel. I’ve got one more fight before the boss battle, then I’m there. (Really, though. I have to write a fight scene, and then I’m on the big reveal, which happens to involve the book’s villain fighting the heroine.)