Step 22: Take pride in shoveling sh**

Photo courtesy of Unsplash / Ali Yahya

Yesterday I was depressed and broke one of my rules to write a near-rant (or I think I went full rant) on my blog, effectively ranting on Facebook. 

But Hell, I meant what I wrote, and at this point, I think going through the occasional rant's just part of the process. 

Today was better than yesterday. This morning, less depression.

But Hell with all that. Let's talk writing. And reading. In fact, I'm reading "On writing" By Steven King, which seems to be the most recommended book for budding creative writers.

The title of this post comes from this wonderful quote by the King:

"Stopping a piece because it's hard, either emotionally or imaginatively, is a bad idea. Sometimes you have to go on when you don't feel like it, and sometimes you're doing good work when it feels like you're managing to do is shovel shit from a sitting position."

I definitely feel like I am shovelling shit at the moment. The vomit draft has resulted in vomit. 

But it's still good work. I'm getting through what is imaginatively hard for me. Currently one of my characters is trying to prove to his drill seargant that he's worthy of being tested for an elite cadre of warriors, but he's just a serf who has been recruited as a grunt in the army, sure as hell not as one of the kinda upper caste kids that can qualify for an elite position.

The grunts just keep going on maneuvers, marching from place to place, sparring with each other (sometimes to brutal effect), keeping track of time using a clay tablet, where the line disappears after a minute every time...

And this character has to demonstrate "Creativity, improvisation and an excellent memory." To qualify even being considered as a potential cadet. I'm basically trying to outsmart my own made up drill seargant, within the limitations of a made up exercise, by playing in the head of another made up character. I assign him a boring task and do my utmost to then figure out how to turn it into an impressive demonstration of said attributes.

It's weird and fun and very frustrating.

I love how Steven King compares writing to sweeping the floor. How it can be workmanlike, and the King is implying you ought to take pride in the drudgery from time to time.

I'm a shit shoveler. But the shovelling is necessary. I'm building a mud hut over here. 

There's a joy to it. A sense of looking back on the previous few paragraphs and sighing at how terrible it is, whilst still taking pride in the fact that it's now THERE.

It's all slowly getting there. One pile of poop at a time.

If it's inevitable that part of the work will be crap, then reaching that point only further reinforces that I'm on the right track. That's the freeing notion of accepting that writing isn't waiting on inspiration, it's not about mood or magic- those things help, but much of the time it's just work. 

And anyone can do work. You don't have to be a genius.