DREAMS OF A LOST MOONCHILD

So I have a weeks vacation, and my plan is (besides the regular adult shit I can’t get around) to explain and upload what I have of a abandoned half baked creepypasta for CGS on Discord.

And then I need to finish that goddamn story for Anne’s sister. I am struggling with the end, but I asked an old friend Raila to read it and give me some brutally honest fb, which she is actually super good at, you know, kicking me where I need it.

I need to start on the novel, for some reason it’s impossible for me to get anyone to help me out, and so I’ll just have to write it with my head up my ass, and hope it works. I honestly don’t even know why I keep asking people to help me out, I hear crickets and can count the dust particles in the air.. And really I can’t blame anyone for not wanting to answer, or not feeling like they have something to say. I’m just frustrated that I’m forced to just sit down and write, without the input that is so important to me, for some reason I always worked best with a writing partner, I NEED someone else that is as exited as me over a plot, or is as invested in what I’m writing. Reality check, bitch – (and bitch would be myself), it doesn’t exist outside fandom.

Have I ever told you guys (some of you might remember) about back when I was actually a popular fanfiction writer? Cause once I was, super incrowd VIP, efamous – yep, you name it, I had a period back in the early 00′ where people would wait for me writing, I had 30+ mails from fans on the daily. it was fucking amazing. I felt like I finally found my home you know? Like I was super good at this by nature, and of course it had just been a question of time before the masses realised just how fucking amazing a writer I was.

Yeah… what is the saying, the higher you fly, the further you fall.

I am not amazing, never was. What happened was that it was a new fandom, everyone was hungry. I was good at profiling myself, and tech savvy. And ergo I was good at getting my shit out there. I was uhm between jobs at that time, and then I got pregnant and had a troublesome pregnancy and so I was home all day, every day. So the fact that I had time to write, and I was available on Yahoo messenger all day – was a plus. And I fucking loved it, I honestly, seriously thought I struck gold.

Because what I found was that if I just soldiered through a chapter, no matter how stupid it was, people would eat it raw, I was dead sure that they’d eat anything I threw at them. They did not, of course they didn’t. Today I sit here and laugh a little, but back then it was like a huge shock to me, that some of the others that had been ‘a-list’ with me, was still writing stuff that people loved, but me, starting on a story that everyone hated, but I actually loved and did finish. Had no readers. I had no mails – and my uploads was buried quickly in the feed cause the algorthm was not my friend anymore. I took that really hard, it sounds stupid, but I did. Back then I didn’t understand that I was not a great author, I wasn’t even mediocre, but I had been at the right place in the right time, delivering something that had a massive demand and ergo no real critisism from the consumer/reader.

I didn’t write anything for a long while, and then I jumped fandom, and the same thing almost happened, besides I knew that it wasn’t that I was good. it was because I was good at profiling myself.

And in those years I wrote original stuff as well, most was never showed to anyone. And then it happened, I started to co-write stuff, and never had I experienced anything as great, like i’d be so exited that it felt like being in love. I’d run home to see if my co-author had written a chapter, or given feedback on my chapter. And THAT is a feeling that i for some reason never recovered from, that exitement you share with someone else. And it was equally fantastic, to read your characters through someone elses words, and write theirs myself.

Now I am here and I only have myself. it’s just not the same, I just can’t get exited, and I need to get exited about what I write, like if I knew someone was waiting for it. But no one is, and if they were they surely gave up by now.

So even if I know I am probably writing to myself here as well, I can see the interaction graphics you know. And what I sort of forgot to mention about why i DON’T miss being ‘someone’, and that is the pressure, everyone wants something, and no matter what you do, someone is bound to be pissed off. I don’t miss that one bit.

I decided to try again. I engage with other creepypasta/shortstory authors, and it might fail as miserable as it did at nosleep (the podcast forum, not the actual reddit one), but time will tell.

I need to find a different way of writing. I need to learn how to write in a vacuum, with only myself and love it. I mean, I can of course do it, but I don’t think it’s fun, and I hate everything I write, and it’s rare it sees a reader cause I delete it. I have many stories half done floating about on clouds and folders.

So next week is writing, writing and more writing… and finish the office blanket of course. I have enough youtube videos lined up that I don’t have to “worry” about that.

PS: If you think I’m whining you misunderstand me, what I am trying to say, is that it’s hard to motivate myself, by myself, for myself.