On Writing

(A post from the archives)

Day 9 (of 30) It seems that all the great writers suffered from some sort of addiction: alcohol, pills, needles, women, etc. When I start seriously considering writing for a living, I wonder if I'd truly be any good since I don't suffer from any major addictions. Do these substances tap into the Creative and make one a better writer? Many say they do. I hate technophobes. Anytime a new technology emerges, people focus on how it will dehumanize us or bring about the end of the world. Yes, technology, like anything else, can cause harm, but it can also give so many benefits. With that said, I may have the tendency of a video game addict. I hate the sound of that. You never imagine a video game destroying lives and families like drugs or alcohol, but a few South Korean kids have died after playing too long. They had to go ruin it for the rest of us. Now we have organizations of mothers against video games trying to steal credibility from MADD. Anyway, my point is writing is hard. It's really difficult to sit in front of a blank page and write something coherent. Video games are easy, though. The story is already there, and you're a part of it. They're built to let you win. What a feeling that is. With a good game, you are actually a living member of that story. It's like a book on speed, and you're the handsome winner of the girl. So, my self-inflicted abstinence from video games was sort of like me going on the wagon. Instead of sitting down to write on a Saturday night, I would bring up a great game and live that story. I would also somewhat neglect my wife and chores after work. I could strike a balance between work/family/games, but that left no room for other hobbies. That would be okay if I didn't want something more. But can I do it? Maybe it takes a certain kind of crazy to write. Aren't writers usually the people with weird hair, mismatching clothes and a weird smell? Maybe I can qualify that way. I am horribly OCD; a place for everything and everything in its place. I count steps when going up stairs. Always. I obviously have an over-active imagination. I always feel like I'm picking out camouflage to blend in with the "regular people" when I'm shopping for clothes. I'm pretty hermit-like. I always wish for invisibility when I'm out in public; not even to do anything cool with, just to avoid people. Maybe I should get a drug habit after all.