the pain is part of the process

I would just like to state, for the record, that WRITING IS HARD. Honestly, today is one of those days where I feel like Wesley after they take a year off his life. I just want to whimper. It seems like something in the atmosphere, because everybody I know is doing this, which does sort of make it better. It does not, however, get me any further out of the tar pits. I would like to say it's just that I need to recharge or that I've been working too hard or that it's something very passing. I unfortunately know better. This is part of the process. The stare-at-the-wall phase. Chase your tail, trying to find the magic way in. Rearranging plot. Adding characters. Trying on scenes to see if they fit. Deleting characters. Double-checking motivations. Basically, this is the part where I look around desperate for anything that will help me move this damn boulder between me and the story. And before you ask, I haven't taken my Ganesh necklace off for three days except to sleep and shower. And I was eyeballing statues on the net this morning. It absolutely drives me crazy that this is part of the process. I want very much to find a way to cut this part out. I even tried to dream my way out the other night: I went to bed whispering to please be shown the way through this story without killing myself. And I got the dream I wanted, sort of. In the dream I knew the answer to everything, knew exactly what I needed to write. I had the perfect story. And nobody wanted to hear it because they couldn't relate. My dream guide turned to me and said, "The pain is part of the process." Well, DAMN. But it makes sense in a very twisted, depressed sort of way. It's like the price paid. Like in the fairytale when you've got to wear down three pairs of iron shoes to get to the princess. If there were gimmies to be found in writing, everybody would do it, and no one would be impressed by your result. In theory I'm behind this. I don't want story to be free. I want it to mean something. I just never thought there would be so much of my blood involved. Yes, I know. Terribly uplifting blog entry. Well, it is me, after all. If this is the big-depressed-life-is-over day, then if I stick to my usual schedule I'm do for Eureka anytime now. Because at least in Heidiworld, when I finally hit the bottom of the pit, I find a trampoline. Of course, there might be a door at the bottom of the pit into a deeper hole first. Won't know until I get there.