• Welcome to the Fantasy Writing Forums. Register Now to join us!

Writing, depression, loneliness, imagination. Everything.

I have written almost nothing in nearly a month. My mental health has been precarious and my WIP obstinate. I've largely spent the month in bed, reading. Goodreads tells me I've finished 14 books this year. That doesn't feel like much at all. At any rate, I did make it out of my reading slump. Only to be dragged back down into it by Sarah J. Maas's painfully mediocre Throne of Glass series.

My heart and my therapist tell me I need to go back to what I'm truly passionate about. I need purpose. I've known forever that something to be passionate about and consistently working at is the key to keeping my mind healthy. The drudgery of trying to finish high school doesn't give me that spark. That's my stage in life; finishing high school, trying to figure out where I want to go to college...why is it hard to feel excited about that? My depression? Feeling like a creative writing degree will end me up stuck in a job I don't want? Just hating change and wishing all my friends weren't moving on? I'm lonely, y'all. I'm almost seventeen. Must seem like a little baby dragon to y'all! I'm honestly shocked whenever I think about that. Is that really all? Really only seventeen years? It's hard to wrap my head around, being so young. Heck, my mind feels thirty or forty at least. I feel like I have more memories than that. More experiences than I should. Consequence of writing books? Maybe?

I've been trying to motivate myself to break down the problems eating at my WIP and go back to making progress on it. I'm a bit tired, a bit overwhelmed. I love this story and i have nine or ten others stewing in the background, waiting for their time. They fight for space. I know they all have great potential. They all want out, they all want to be enfleshed...anyone know that feeling? The feeling that you have stories just CLAWING their way out of you, desperate to breathe? I'm frustrated by the slowness of the process, by the limitations of my own abilities, because they all want out. But i am forced to take them one at a time, one page at a time, one word at a time.

I keep wanting more. My mind keeps visiting floating cities built on sky mountains at the edge of the world. Ethereal realms of petals and jade. I don't even know how to write most things down. There was a line dreamed up about a goddess who brings the apocalypse lying down in her bed of stars, but it was gone by the time I got to a piece of paper. It was breathtaking though, I promise. In my reading, I've been seeking out dragon books. Many people have written good ones, but there is always something missing. Always always always. I keep going back to the idea of writing some kind of be-all-end-all of dragon books, one that really does the creatures justice. There are so many good books, but I keep wanting more.

Am I disillusioned with books generally? After laying down Heir of Fire in disappointment, the insanely ambitious epic fantasy saga I wanted to write a year or so ago came back to me. Throne of Glass was supposed to be an amazing series, but i can't even begin to describe how generic it was. The second book was better, but the first was kind of awful. The world was generic and featureless. The characters were generic and featureless. The writing was amateurish and juvenile. It was all a very pre-packaged and boring set of cliches used a thousand times before. And I was disappointed, because I wanted a fantasy world to engulf myself in and never want to leave. i really wanted a series that would consume me. And I keep wondering if what I want even exists.

I mean, a lot of you probably think my troubles are a result of reading Young Adult novels, but every fantasy book everyone says is amazing even in the adult realm seems generic and identical to everything else. Elves, heroes, swords, kings. That sort of thing. "Why don't you like those things, Dragon?" you are all probably thinking. I honestly don't know. That's not the point.

the point is, am i the only one with the sense that I'm craving a particular book, a particular fantastic, immersive fantasy saga, one that fulfills everything I want out of a book but can never find, still looking for this book I want to read?

I know only one thing: that book doesn't exist.

And that's where a writer begins, right?

Maybe there is only really ever one story. Maybe we're all incompletely trying to tell the story that's at the center of everything, the story that was shattered into echoes at the beginning of the universe. I don't know. I think about these things.

I find reality painfully narrow. i find everything wanting, I find the number of things that exist much smaller than the things that don't. That's why I write fantasy. I am full of stories and worlds and guess what? It's lonely. I want to show someone these things I imagine. I have a theory that writers are motivated by loneliness. I keep feeling like there's this inner world that i've never let anyone fully into, of all the things I keep trying to put into words, of all the places in my dreams, and it's amazing. And it's lonely. And I want to show someone. Being a writer is such a fundamental part of me. It's like being another kind of being than human. And maybe what I'm seeking is something that will allow someone else to understand?

I keep writing and keep writing, but still there's something just outside my words. A world beneath a veil. I'm not going to find that book that makes all other books wanting, but I hope I'll be able to write it. I keep going back to the thought of the fantasy saga I laid aside. I almost want to pick it back up. i've been wanting to plunge into an epic saga, create a world like the one I keep glimpsing in my head. They say write the book you want to read. My sense of the book I want to read is so crisp. And yet, just outside of my grasp.

My stories are unwritten. I'm lonely, y'all. I'm alone in these worlds.

There's nothing to do but keep on writing.
 
  • Like
Reactions: Tom

Ban

Troglodytic Trouvère
Article Team
On his deathbed Goethe said something along the lines of: "I have never understood anyone, and no-one has ever understood me."
He said these words in frustration despite being surrounded by friends and family. Goethe was not an unpopular or unaccomplished man, yet even he felt isolated. Even he felt the barrier separating the secretive world of the mind and the tangible world we live in. No matter how much you want to you will never be able to fully explain to anyone how you function. Humans simply lack the time, intelligence and self-reflection necessary to describe the sprawling mess of thoughts and feelings that is our mind. I'm not saying this to feed your depression. I'm saying this so you understand that not only are you not alone in your state, you are in the majority, in the totality even.



I believe there are two perspectives to take on this:

1. We are all fundamentally imprisoned in our minds. No matter how much we try there will always be a barrier between "us" and the rest of the world. Most of our hopes and dreams shall never manifest themselves, and no-one will ever hear of them.

Or 2. We are all fundamentally liberated in our mind. Our bad ideas and immature, ill-conceived thoughts never need to reach anyone. The only things leaving our minds are those that we want to let go off. Our isolation can serve as our refuge and our filter. And no matter what the world around us thinks or does, we have the exclusive ticket to the creative wonderland in our heads. With discipline you can be the dictator of your dreams.

I prefer number 2.
 
On his deathbed Goethe said something along the lines of: "I have never understood anyone, and no-one has ever understood me."
He said these words in frustration despite being surrounded by friends and family. Goethe was not an unpopular or unaccomplished man, yet even he felt isolated. Even he felt the barrier separating the secretive world of the mind and the tangible world we live in. No matter how much you want to you will never be able to fully explain to anyone how you function. Humans simply lack the time, intelligence and self-reflection necessary to describe the sprawling mess of thoughts and feelings that is our mind. I'm not saying this to feed your depression. I'm saying this so you understand that not only are you not alone in your state, you are in the majority, in the totality even.



I believe there are two perspectives to take on this:

1. We are all fundamentally imprisoned in our minds. No matter how much we try there will always be a barrier between "us" and the rest of the world. Most of our hopes and dreams shall never manifest themselves, and no-one will ever hear of them.

Or 2. We are all fundamentally liberated in our mind. Our bad ideas and immature, ill-conceived thoughts never need to reach anyone. The only things leaving our minds are those that we want to let go off. Our isolation can serve as our refuge and our filter. And no matter what the world around us thinks or does, we have the exclusive ticket to the creative wonderland in our heads. With discipline you can be the dictator of your dreams.

I prefer number 2.

I have the perspective that the purpose of art is to break down that barrier (in the mind of the creator, and the mind of the reader/viewer/experience-er)
 

Penpilot

Staff
Article Team
I have the perspective that the purpose of art is to break down that barrier (in the mind of the creator, and the mind of the reader/viewer/experience-er)

I once heard someone say that reading is probably as close to true telepathy as we'll ever get. One person puts their thoughts onto the page and another can take them in. The clearer the writer is with their words, the clear the message will be received.

These things you struggle with are the things many struggle with. Don't let them discourage you. It's all grist for the mill. Feel those emotions, experience them, and remember them. These things come from a deep well that you can draw from over and over. I find my best stories are the ones in which I'm able to tap into something personal for me.

As for falling short with your stories, like you said just keep writing. You fail until you don't.

There are millions and millions of ways to develop a story concept. Some of them are bad. Some are good. But the more you keep piling on those failures the closer you'll get to what you truly want. You may not realise it, but each time you fail, it's like crossing out one of the bad ways to do something from a list. You'll learn form it and be a better writer for it.
 
I keep wanting more. My mind keeps visiting floating cities built on sky mountains at the edge of the world. Ethereal realms of petals and jade. I don't even know how to write most things down. There was a line dreamed up about a goddess who brings the apocalypse lying down in her bed of stars, but it was gone by the time I got to a piece of paper. It was breathtaking though, I promise.

Some writers use audio recording devices to capture their thoughts, or even to dictate whole passages that are later transcribed. Isaac Asimov experimented with dictating stories, and having his wife Gertrude transcribe them, but after three stories, she got pregnant, so that experiment ended. But it might work for you.
 

C. A. Stanley

Minstrel
If I'm totally honest, a lot of this resonates with me.

I've suffered with anxiety and depression all my life. I hated my childhood; I didn't have a bad childhood by any stretch, but I was anxious and depressed and didn't know why. So to escape this world, I read books. Fiendishly. Why stay in this world when I can be in one with magic? I owe a lot to the books I've read throughout my life — they open your mind in ways mainstream education just cannot (fantasy in particular).

Thumbs up for reading.

Over the past few years, pain has spread through my whole body, and it's constant. It's crippling — not physically, but mentally. Medical experts have told me there are many things wrong, but I have no official diagnosis yet... This is so frustrating. My depression is having a field day! And this is why I started writing (or more specifically, planning stories and building worlds). Again, it's an escape. Instead of allowing my mind to dwell on negative thoughts, I’m thinking about my characters, my cultures, my plots. It’s therapeutic. As a bonus, I'm reading with more consideration, my English skills have improved, and I've effectively become a student of geography / sociology / psychology / anthropology, and so much more.

Thumbs up for writing.

As you mentioned above, there's a story that I've been looking for for so long, and so I finally decided I'd try and write it myself. I'm not getting very far with the actual writing (the initial plot was chock full of holes, so I'm slowly developing and refining it), but I've created a whole world, and I have more notes than I could possibly read through! The story may never happen. It may happen, and be sh1t. But I've learnt a lot in the process.

They all want out, they all want to be enfleshed...anyone know that feeling? The feeling that you have stories just CLAWING their way out of you, desperate to breathe? I'm frustrated by the slowness of the process, by the limitations of my own abilities, because they all want out. But i am forced to take them one at a time, one page at a time, one word at a time.

Yes.

Same as you, I have too many ideas. Great ideas (I think). But sometimes, putting a feeling or an image into words is just impossible. To make the intangible tangible is not easy. I’m sure it's something we'll learn to do better. I give up on a lot of ideas–and it’s likely they will forever remain in note form–because I don’t think I can do them justice, or I don’t have the time to give them life. In this, I’m my own worst enemy. I give up before I even get started. Is this my depression, or is it normal? I never know. Every cloud has a silver lining though, and despite many of the ideas not getting any traction, it’s all good practice, and I feel creative far more often than I used to.

The chance we will write something perfect is zero — there’s no such thing as perfect. And as writers, I think we’re that much more critical of ourselves and our own work. But if we keep practicing we will undoubtedly get better, and somebody will enjoy reading our work (maybe only one person, maybe one million, who knows).

"I have never understood anyone, and no-one has ever understood me."
That quote is great. Something I’m coming to understand more and more as I get older. The ultimate goal is to be happy with oneself, and understand one’s own mind as best as possible, isn’t it? It ain’t easy, I know. But through reading and writing we come closer to understanding people, and through that, ourselves.

Some writers use audio recording devices to capture their thoughts
I’ve considered this before, but the truth is I hate the sound of my own voice! Anyone else feel the same way? What I want to know is, are they close to creating a computer that can take the words directly from your brain? Now that would be nice, aha.

This post ended up longer than I expected, and maybe a little egocentric (unintended). Sorry :) I think the moral of my post is... you are not alone :)
 
I started a document on my computer titled simply "the story." In it, I'm gathering up the things I think would go in the Ideal Book. The themes and ideas I seem to revisit in every story I write. The things I feel I'm really aching to communicate. I'll keep adding to it.

Still haven't made headway against my writing slump. I've written some poetry that's depressing and sucks. Actually that one poem might not suck. I'll have to look back over it.
 
Top