Don’t worry. I’m just writing.

Someone explain this to me:


It’s 1 time out of 100 that I write in public (usually by necessity, not by choice).


It’s 1 time out of 100 that I write a scene that makes me cry (again, no stopping it).


It’s 100 out of 100 times that these two overlap. Why the hell?


I’ve had stewardesses (twice) ask me if I’m okay. Another time in an airport waiting at the gate. And this morning at breakfast (a really nice guy this time, who seemed willing to discuss my problems or give me a lift or whatever I needed).


What’s weird is that I never tell these nice people what I’m doing. People have real problems to cry about, and all I could possibly say is: “Don’t worry. I’m just writing.”


Have you had this experience? I’m sure I’m not alone in this.

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Published on October 16, 2014 06:40
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message 1: by Alan (new)

Alan Hammond Not yet. I'm writing my first book, so it's certain to come. I hope it does, at least.

I have been at work and imagined a scene I couldn't wait to write that put me in a whole new high level of existence! Which is cool.

Whether crying or exuberance, it shows there's plenty of passion in the writing. That's how this novice see it.

Alan


message 2: by P.J. (new)

P.J. O'Brien "Have you had this experience? I’m sure I’m not alone in this."

Oh yes, I have. Not so much in public because I never did much out there, but those in the household used to wonder why I was occasionally crying, smiling, or shuddering as I typed. But I figure that those were the times when the writing is most genuine and the least contrived. (Or at least, the most therapeutic.) I did relentlessly trim those sections up later when editing, out of fears they'd be silly and melodramatic. And yep, still cried, smiled or shuddered as I did.

On the bright side of it, isn't it lovely that strangers showed such concern for you? It might have been embarrassing but it's proof that we as a species aren't completely hopeless or lacking in empathy.


message 3: by Dawn (new)

Dawn McKenna I have done this and added to my crazy by arguing about it with myself as well. In my WIP, my main male character has brain cancer. I wasn't writing in public, but reading over a scene in which he and his wife were finally talking to each other about how they really felt about it. I started crying and then having a conversation in my head. "If you were a nicer person, you'd let him live. But then the book would suck. You're killing him for a BOOK?"

I got up and walked out of Starbucks, partly out of embarassment and partly because I wasn't a nice enough person to have a blueberry muffin.


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