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IWSG – 03/02/16

  • Posted on March 2, 2016 at 3:52 pm

A lot of writers will discuss ‘finding your niche’ as if this is some magical journey. As if that mythical ‘niche’ for which you search will set you on the track for results. As if that long-awaited niche will answer all your questions, and make it easier to understand yourself. A lot of authors attribute their success to finding their niche, and sticking to it, learning the trade entirely and devoting themselves to that long-awaited god named Niche.

I’m here to tell you that’s bullshit. It’s a lot like in real life. A lot of the problems that people have is that we’re all pressured to find that one thing we’re good at. That one ‘passion’ we have, that one great joy in our lives, is what we’re expected to cultivate and then unleash upon the world like an unholy tide of pleasantness. The thing is, and a lot of people are beginning to learn that now, that’s all a crock of horseshit.

There is no one end all, be all, of your creativity. You may never find that one job that you love forever. You may never find that one calling that you were ‘put on this earth for’. Your calling might be sitting in your pjs and making diagrams of buildings out of toothpicks. No one is really going to recognise you for your ability to eat an entire bag of potato chips without having to take a sip of something because of how salty they are. And I know for a fact that my odd ability to find and then binge watch anime and manga is not even remotely going to earn me money.

Or is it?

See that’s another thing a lot of people don’t tell you. Often times, niches, callings, and that one great passion, come out of a lot of practice and thought. It comes from writing those BILLION articles that mean almost nothing, and sound like an incoherent child’s scrawlings. It comes with time, and effort and energy. And yeah, you may never realize what your niche is. You may never realize that when you put those words to paper and out comes YET ANOTHER STUPID FAIRY TALE, that that is in fact your niche.

I recently had a sort of revelation. You see, ever since middle school, I had the uncanny ability to pick out interesting things to read out of the school library. And then, in highschool, I managed to find one interesting manga, or anime, or book, after another. I had, for a long while, lapsed in that talent. I focused on work, on trying to maintain school, on trying to focus. I focused on everything but this one talent that makes me happy. This consumption of stories. This absorption of plots and characters.

Recently, however, I have found a way to turn that odd talent, into something that motivates me to write here on this blog. That motivates me to do more with my life. I started my Writing Anime series. I meant it just to explore some of the lessons of writing that Anime have taught ME over the years. I meant it as a way to make use of the hundreds of hours I spend watching cartoons as a grown adult.

So it’s not an instantaneous thing, realizing that you’ve found your one thing. It’s not something that comes immediately. It’s honestly not even something I can see coming with thought or contemplation. I can only see the finding of your niche happening with massive work and effort. With a natural move that you barely even think about, that pushes you to work harder. So keep writing. You’ll find it eventually.

And when you do, it’ll feel like coming home, changing into sweats and putting on fuzzy socks after a long hard day. Difficult to do, but oh, so, worth it.

Weely Writing Update: 09/02/14

  • Posted on September 3, 2014 at 4:00 pm

So I meant to do this update two days ago, to kind of wrap up August, but I ended up working and basically emotionally drained entirely. Luckily, I have more energy now! I even managed almost 2500 words the other day, on a cute little story! The link is below, under Nightmares Waking. Please take a look!

Word Counts

Kurylian Saga: The Sorcerer and The Swordsman – Edit one – 11 pages

Kurylian Saga: The Prince and The Corpse – Rough Draft – WC: 1,348

Kaimi Rowe Series: Seeker Born – Rough Draft – Restarted – Outline phase

Unnamed Scifi short story – Idea stage – Minor research done

Blog Posts

Build Your Own Challenge

Breaking Down Nemesis: Part Four

Nightmares Waking

Books Read

Anansi Boys by Neil Gaiman

Goals

Seven chapters of Nemesis read/blogged

Finish Tithe by Holly Black

Finish Valiant by Holly Black

Write a 2500 word short story

At least four blogposts posted this week

Build Your Own challenge

  • Posted on August 25, 2014 at 9:10 pm

abandoned-buildingI had been here before, a long time ago. Something tickled against my body, and I shivered. My foot found it’s way onto the old metal staircase without my mind telling it to. The echo sounds just like it might if I’d stepped on rock in a dank cave somewhere in the deep jungles of the world. Here, surrounded by the graffiti of activists past, I find my hand pressing along the cold, sticky railing.

Up, up, up, I turn, following the staircase with single minded intention. What would I find at the end? What was it that tickled my memory so, that made me desperate to remember, deeply wanting to find out. That strange tickle at the bottom of my belly had started up again.

The one that always told me to go through the small hole at the bottom of that fence next to the abandoned house. The feeling that had me going down alleys that had gates at the end of them. The sense of something great being just behind a locked door, one with wrought iron hinges and stained glass. That same hope, that maybe, just maybe, this time, something wonderful would happen.

This door, instead, was rusted, and leaning at a tilt that let light come through the door. It’s handle was cold and rough against my palm, and I wanted to squeeze it harder. My chest felt tight, something wrong and right all at the same time. I had been here, once. So long ago that I can barely remember it. What was behind this door? What had I forgotten so completely that it filled me with such excitement at the idea of seeing it again?

The shriek of the door’s opening was louder than my heartbeat. Everything whited out. The smell of clean air. The rustle of soft leaves. I pushed past the sudden glare of sun. When my eyes stopped watering, I saw it all.

The beautiful green garden that I suddenly remembered with a clarity so sharp it felt like a knife’s edge. Grown wild now, with no one to tend it, it exploded across the building’s roof, and down the sides of the walls. I remembered now, the old woman with the soft eyes, her scarred lips laughing. I remembered the afternoons I’d come here, hoping for adventure, and never being let down. She’d told me so many stories. So many happy endings, and cliffhanging heroes.

My eyes watered again, this time, at the remembrance of childhood. This time, I let them drip down my cheeks, a solemn wake for a time long lost to me. A time just discovered again. Now, I set out. For a new adventure. Perhaps this time, it would be I who told the tales, who picked the jewel-like berries and pressed them into jam and drink for curious children.

Kicking off my shoes, I began my next adventure.

 

This peice was written in response to Daily Post’s current Build Your Own writing challenge. They inspired us to pick a picture, and an opening line. This, is what I came up with. Upon hearing the opening line, I immediately thought of all the wonder that accompanies discovering something you once knew. And so, this grew out of it. 

 

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