I am writing an essay at the moment, but I just wanted to take a second to say that I LOVE WRITING. It doesn't make sense; I am doing something that I should be hating—I am at the library at 11:00 at night, re-writing the introduction to a 10-page research paper the entirety of which needs to be re-written. I am writing about an author I love, but of whose novels I have read none. The library closes at 2:00 in the morning. The paper is due tomorrow at 5:00, but I have a flight out of Utah to catch at 6:00, so I won’t be able to procrastinate to the last minute even if I wanted. I just completed the introduction (and by “completed” I mean that I said in my mind “Ok that’s enough for now”), and I have the glorious rest of the paper waiting in front me to be pieced together with white school glue and popsicle sticks—and I feel like I’m on ecstasy. I don’t understand why, but I honestly can’t get enough of it.
I should probably calm down. I think that good writers first need to get over writing about how wonderful they feel when they write before they can become good writers. It sucks to read about writing all the time. I bought a “Best Of” book of American essays from 2009, and a good third of them were written about writing. It was pathetic. Sure, they were good—most of them—but who wants to be reading about writing all the time? We know that you love writing. That’s why you’re a writer! Now tell us about something we don’t know. Tell us something interesting about the world we live in. Or at least articulate the things I already know but have never had the words to describe.
Okay, that’s been a good breather. It’s 11:06, and now I’ve got to plunge back into the ice-cold pool and get this done. But I just have to say, this is SO exhilarating!
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