Quoth He Or She…?




Every once and a while I stop and seriously consider why I would do this hideous torture called writing to myself. At its best you have a few moments where the words of the characters who live in your head flow freely and perfectly onto the paper, before you begin to doubt the characters’ ability to express themselves and you are wracked with doubt and inadequacy. At its worst it can be akin to being utterly insane for you hear voices every waking and some sleeping moments of the day, constantly urging you that their story should be next or that you are not giving them the right tone of voice in the tale you are fashioning. And there is always pain. Pain that you will not tell the tale well and no one will ever understand it. Pain that you only have so many hours in a day and you know that someone in your head will be left unheard. Pain when the story is done and someone you have lived with for a time has moved on and you miss them terribly.

When I am stuck and the words will not flow or I need to not take it all so seriously or I doubt that anyone will ever read any of the words I have committed to paper or I stop to consider why I do this to myself; I look to the words of others who are afflicted by the same condition. Not in the pages of their opuses necessarily, but in the snippets of conversations they have had with interviewers or written down about their condition in journals that they probably never meant for public eyes. And when I am done reading through them, I feel less alone, if not saner and go back to my torment. I hope the quotes I share here help you to reach inside yourself and pull out another tale.


“Writing is a pleasurable torment and anyone who endeavors to do it is a masochist.” – unknown


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