Why Writing Can Suck It

From the quill of Cameron …

I’m going to talk about writing and words in this post, because they’ve always been an important part of my life, and I think writing is perhaps my best means of communication. I write better than I talk, I struggle somewhat in everyday conversation, but anyone who met me would probably not believe the nonsense that spills from my lips at home, when I’m no longer on my best behaviour. I sometimes come out with neologisms when I talk; new words that are spontaneously made up. This phenomenon is common to both autism and Schizophrenia. An example of this is ‘fuckquinox’, which I came up with when several stressful events seemed to be conspiring to cause me to have a meltdown. On other occasions, if I’m confused, I involuntarily mouth a string of incoherent sounds comprised of different mumbled half-words, most of which make Kirsten laugh, thank God.

At present I am working on Ravenscrag Keep, my novel, and this is my third attempt at it. I began in 2010, had a two-year break, started again, and then quit after about 55,000 words. In 2016 I started again from the beginning, making a promise to myself that I wouldn’t let a day pass without continuing the work in some way, even if it was only one word a day, until the book is complete.

One very frustrating fault quite common to people with Aspergers, is difficulty with small motor movements. I first ‘learned’ how to type at school when I was 13, and despite having had constant access to either typewriters or keyboards ever since, I still am pitifully bad at typing. I have mistyped every third word in writing this post! This means that I can’t ‘flow’ from thought to screen when I write, and if I see a spelling mistake I often have a compulsive need to correct it straight away. I will even correct in pencil any spelling mistake I find in a published book.

For this reason, I’m writing the first draft of Ravenscrag Keep in pencil. I print in small letters, and have recently filled 50 double sides of A4 pages. Kirsten gave me permission to draw on the pages too, so it has little illustrations all the way through.

Now, on to the reason why writing can suck it. The truth is, I don’t really enjoy the process of writing. I like the ideas and stories that come from my imagination, and I like editing and refining the work, choosing better words and removing bad ones, but the writing itself can suck it. I don’t have a plot for my book, if I knew what was going to happen, I wouldn’t be able to stand writing it down!

I break other rules of writing, too. One of these which is often considered sacrosanct, is that you should start writing as soon as you wake up, when you are freshly connected with the unconscious mind, and ideas in theory should stream out of you like bolts from a Mage’s staff. Well, if I thought I had to do that, I believe I’d find a way to avoid waking up altogether. I usually struggle every morning to get out of bed, and writing is the last thing I want to do. I write when I’m having my morning coffee and almond butter on toast. It doesn’t usually flow, and yet still, even if I do only manage one word a day, the story still makes sense when edited later.

Kirsten reads over my work for me, as I grudgingly type up what I’ve already handwritten, and pass it on to her. She writes words of encouragement in the margins. I only want her to write positive things at this stage, because I need constant positive reinforcement. I’ll save the hard criticism for when I’ve finished with the beast.

At some risk to upsetting my own barrel of pickles (see here), here’s a very brief ‘first edit’ excerpt from Ravenscrag Keep:

“Phantasmagoria burst upon her as a merciless, crashing wave. The ghosts of every sentient being that had ever lived and died at Ravenscrag Keep surrounded her, as did many she recognised from the streets of Ravensdayle and beyond. They spoke all at once, demanding to be heard, morose faces accusing her of neglecting them.

Rebekkah swayed, shocked at their sudden emergence, but resolutely refrained from screaming. This was a travesty! Curse and FUCK them, they would not steal her star light.

She opened her voice again, aware she sang solo.

The choir must breath again, must regard her in awe, rather than exchange these leery glances. Her voice found its path, more steady with each note, but her attention was starting to fracture. Something worse than the usual miasma of death was manifesting in the men’s choir.”

I have kept my promise to myself, by the way, I haven’t had a day’s break from writing my book in over a year and a half.

 

(Photos of Cameron’s work-in-progress – Ravenscrag Keep.)

Kirsten adds …

I’m so proud of Cameron for continuing to write his first book even when some days have been so hard on the both of us – physically, mentally, emotionally.

When he began writing it originally in 2010, life was super crazy with me being treated for leukaemia – needless to say we didn’t have a stickable routine. And even now, when he’s been tackling his beast again these last couple of years, a real routine (= what Cameron would consider a routine) hasn’t been consistently possible.

But he has kept at it, and it’s taking shape before my eyes.

It helps that we’re both writers. I can appreciate the pain of the process and the creative energy needed to see an idea come into fruition. It’s hard graft, and it’s equally rewarding.

As with most situations, it’s difficult for me to watch Cameron struggle with his writing, and to mostly have to sit back and let him work out his own way forward, or just be with him as I listen to his frustrations. There are some hurdles that we’ve been able to overcome together, though, and the ‘me reading his work and giving positive feedback’ is an example of this, which is proving to have a great, and much needed, emotional and mental lift to Cameron as he toils alone in his book-writing journey.