There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.
I saw this quote and thought that it was pretty representative of how I was feeling yesterday.
I didn’t post something yesterday for Writing Monday because I wasn’t prepared for what I wrote yesterday. It was supposed to be a brief reflection on strange jobs that I’ve had. It turned into a 4500 word exploration of some really depressing memories. Not memories like, I got passed over for a promotion or I wasted a year at a dead-end job, these were memories of prolonged trauma. I will likely post it at some point, but for the moment I can’t. You should probably count yourself lucky though, it’s so poorly written that it might have been an excerpt from The King In Yellow.