I've Lost My Voice

If I'm being perfect honest, I'd say I don't remember how to write anymore. It's a funny thing to say because I do it all the time. I'm actually writing more regularly now than at any point of my life. I just don't think I remember how to do it anymore. Let me explain.

I'm writing a feature length script. You know about this if you follow me on any type of social media outlet, read this blog, or have ever seen me in person. It comes up a lot. It's a big portion of my life. I'm often up before farm animals, many of which are known for being up early I hear, to work on my writing.

I've never had a script come together this well either. As I'm writing, I'm discovering things from my outline that, when I write them out, I actually stop and think "that's awesome. I can't believe I came up with that." It's well planned out and I think it shows in the construction of the writing.

By all units of measurement (besides the impossible to convert to metric system), this should be the highlight of my writing career, if you'll allow me to use that word for it. I'm writing more than ever and discovering that my story and the world I've created is coming together in a way nothing I've ever written has.

And yet the individual words I write and the order in which I put them together feel constantly wrong. I second guess every letter, every phrase. This isn't even exclusive to the screenplay. This blog post, and all of the other ones before and presumably after, feels the same way.

How do I even end this? I have no solution. I have a problem that I can do nothing with but tell myself to get over it and keep going. And am I being too introspective for my own good? Will I look back on this in five years and realize what an idiot I've been to journal thoughts like this with the world watching? Or at least while giving the opportunity for the world to watch. Will this all seem like a fool's game later in life?

All I know is that I'm going to keep writing regardless. It's the only thing I can do at this point. I'm too deep into the idea that I could eventually make money off this thing I love doing so much that I can't turn back now. I'm running through a forest blindly, scratching myself on trees with every step, but I can't slow down. I'll never know what's ahead of me if I get caught by what's behind.