1 Daily Struggle of an Author

When I saw the writing prompt #63 saying I could write anything I like in one chapter, I was encouraged to write everything that came to my mind. However, I ended writing a short diary of my daily struggles.

My Diary

Day 1: Monday

I woke up early morning and thought of cooking eggs and rice for breakfast. But when I took a peek at the freezer I saw a half gallon of untouched ice cream. It was a temptation. Hmm, a little won't be harmful, I thought. So, after preparing the morning meal, I started 'tasting' a heaping spoon of ice cream. Guess what? It was not enough. So I added another heaping spoon . . . and another . . . and another. But anyway it was always a heaping spoon. In conclusion, it was only a heaping spoon. No harm done, I assured myself.

I went back to my room to start writing. I opened my laptop and went straight to webnovel.com. I checked for any new comments in my published chapters and saw none. Ah, nobody seemed interested to read my story, I said to myself. Well, that's life, no hurt feelings, I thought. But deep down I truly hoped somebody would leave a comment. It would be encouraging to see even one.

Anyway, I had to continue writing no matter what. But sometimes I'm tempted not to write for days and wished to wait on what comments or reviews I would receive, whether be hate or encouraging. I guess the former would prevail. As a writer, it's really heart wrenching to read hate reviews and comments. I bent my knees beside my bed, looked heavenward, and prayed, "God, please don't send me readers who will write hate or one-star reviews." So, I told myself to better stick to writing daily.

However, I don't feel like writing today. I have no inspiration at all. I tried re-reading my story with a classical Bach piano accompaniment in the background, to reignite that unextinguishable fervent flame of a devoted author to my readers but . . . what lit up was just a measly spark. Oh dear, what a disaster.

My mind went bonkers. "What will I do? Will my readers stop reading then delete my book from their library if I can't make an update today. Ahhhhhh! I can't bear it." I felt miserable. So I went down to the kitchen and snatched another heaping spoon of ice cream. And zoomed back to my room. I had to find that ever blooming inspiration.

I tried another way. I watched a Korean television series on Netflix, 'Accidentally In Love.' It was a bit funny and corny while watching it with corn chips beside me. I watched from episode 1 to 10 but the desired 'Aha moment' didn't come. (You know when an idea comes to mind and you'll exclaim "Aha!", that's the Aha moment I'm talking about.)

Noon passed and I already consumed half of the half gallon of ice cream. That would be one-fourth gallon. Anyway, forget the math. I'm afraid, I would be getting fat if this went on.

"When will this inspiration comes?" I felt hopeless.

I decided to forget about my helplessness and go to sleep.

The clock ticked in seconds, in minutes, and an hour, then to two hours. When I woke up, I peeked a glance at the window and it was partly dark outside. (I believe you experience the same way.)

I panicked because I thought it was already dawn. I presumed I slept all the way through the night and skipped dinner. My stomach churned in fear, thinking I missed updating yesterday. I pulled up my hair in misery. Then my phone rang. As I picked it up, I saw the time, 4:30 p.m., Monday. Relief suffused my being and laughed out loud with my stupidity.

I had to fix this madness and start writing, I thought.

So, I read my plot again and saw a tiny hint on what I was supposed to write next. I began writing a sentence and another until I finish a paragraph. The elation of finishing a whole paragraph inspired me. Thus, I continued. Slowly ideas came prancing around me. I laughed in jubilance from escaping the prison of what they called writer's block.

I plucked every idea one by one and threw them to the monitor on my laptop. And saw every single idea merged to become sceneries, characters, and dialogues to my Inkstone drafted chapter page. I read the whole chapter of 775 words. I was slightly satisfied. I didn't realize it was already past eight in the evening when I finished my draft.

I darted to my kitchen. This time, I fried a slice of pork chop with green salads at the side since I was inspired. Of course, I didn't forget another heaping spoon of ice cream.

Now, the next hard part was to hurdle the editing process. I tackled every word in every sentence and made my writing sound beautiful to the ears when I read. When I gazed at the clock at the lower right portion on my laptop monitor, the time stared back at me saying it was already eleven p.m.

"Ahhh! I must not miss today's update. I have to publish before the clock struck midnight," I said to myself.

I reread as fast as I could to check if I miss a pronoun, making the 'she' to a 'he'. Or checking my grammar if everything was written in past tense. And there were only a few minutes left before midnight. I moved my mouse and clicked the blue rectangular box with the PUBLISH in the middle. Alas, I'm done. I breathed deep, relieving myself from grinding myself to finish one chapter.

I tried to read my finished product on the reader's page. Then the errors laughed back at me. I sighed and corrected those errors in inkstone.

Twelve o'clock came and exhaustion filled my brain and hands. I tucked myself to sleep. But what so tiring and exciting being a writer was missing the train to dreamland because ideas started dancing in front of me, like counting jumping sheep at night. The most horrible thing was they were surrounded by fire, heating up my imagination, making me crazy if I couldn't open my laptop to write them down.

I couldn't hold it anymore. So I got up and began writing again until exhaustion punched me to the face and sent me to sleep. Thank goodness, the dream express train relentlessly waited for me. I hopped in and slept soundly.

And this was only Monday, the first day of the week. There would still be Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. Ah, spared Sunday for the Lord and my family.

I smiled to myself and said, "this is the reality of the life of an author. Since I chose this path then I must embrace it."