Building with Blocks...

"Writing is easy: All you do is stare at a blank piece of paper till drops of blood form on your forehead."

Writing scares me.

This is not all that remarkable given that, well, everything scares me. But writing has always instilled me with a particular, resonant, and unshakeable fear. Absolut in terrorem, if you will: Partly because it is so damn difficult to do well, and partly because I like it so damn much. In the face of the latter, the former shouldn't matter, as clearly one can write reams and reams of mediocre material for oneself, in a virtual unending orgy of scrivening-pleasure, without any interruption, termination or criticism. However, here is the catch: If you love to write, no matter what you say, how many fervent denials you may put forth ("Absolutely, 100%, not guilty", "I did not have sexual relations with that woman", "I am not here to talk about the past") the truth of the matter is that the real pleasure for you, the true writing money-shot is in having your work published, read, and enjoyed. Aye, there is the rub. Or lack thereof, as the case may be.

So, see, it is not so simple to indulge one's drafting-fancies. At least not to the extent one would like.

Aside from the inherent performance anxiety, like sex, the act of writing:

• embraces a certain amount of exhibitionism (both on your part, and on the part of others),
• effectively records your past behavior and thus can come back to bite you in the ass ("One Night in Paris" anyone?),
• cannot be forced or effectively faked (though I know this is a point of contention on which people are of various opinions - from my soap box, I say you can always tell a faker),
• is a forum skill, experience and patience are the highest virtues and will always (and repeatedly) be acknowledged and appreciated,
• may evoke the descriptors "prosaic", "perfunctory" and "chafing" - and, rest assured, this will never have any kind of a positive connotation
• when done well, it moves you. As a writer, in the realization of your capabilites and having captured the elusive prize of pitch-perfect prose which affected others in the ways of shared-experience. As the reader, in a nearly transcendental way, revealing to you the depth of your innermost feelings as you have never had them presented to you before and giving such feelings a voice and forum.
• can be approximated alone, but for full (and most truly satisfying effect) requires the participation of others
• can embrace a variety of styles, and punctuation (both traditional and creative) is always a plus (!!!, ..., ???, and, of course, %&#$!)
• when forced is certainly an act of violence (if only against the immediate page, as well as the literary establishment in general)
• desire is certainly enhanced by drink, the performance, eh, well not so much (though those possessed with true skill can always effectively perform regardless of any imbibing)
• can be prurient or elegant - sometimes of the best is both...
• fun to talk about, more fun to indulge in (though most hours of day devoted to either one)
• is always about making a connection, be it with yourself or others. To be afraid, anxious and obsessed with the act, robs you of the ability to enjoy its inherent beauty. It can leave one feeling incapable, incompetent and broken. Approaching the act in an unassuming and unexpected way will always reward you - if only with the realization that one is not broken, just temporarily out of service due to prior mishandling.