Prose Envy

[apple_pathways]

I'm finding it incredibly difficult to write like myself at the moment. I don't have the clearest idea of what I write like in my purest, most unadulterated form (apparently I say things like "most unadulterated"), but I do constantly find myself wishing I wrote more like this person, or that person, or that famous author.

I read an incredibly beautiful story full of rich sensory experiences, and I want to include more vivid descriptions in my writing. I read a story that's elegant in its simplicity, and I want to adopt my own style to be more clean and concise. I read something funny, I want to be funny; I read something tragic, I want to be tragic. It goes on: more intellectual, more literary, more allegorical, more accessible, etc. etc. etc.

It's odd, this internet life where I pretend to be a writer.

Comments

[housemaid79.livejournal.com]

You are not alone! I am working on a particular story myself, and have been banging my head against this very same brick wall. Argh!

This may sound like a random thing to do, but one thing that does seem to help me "get back in touch" with my own writing voice (wow, does that sound cheesy) is to listen to music that I not only love, but that sounds like me and the way I feel about life, including my writing... I also tend to collect things - photos, quotations, an old piece of jewelry - that feel like "me" and surround myself with them when I write.

I'm currently trying to discern my own particular voice in this literary world, and it is not an easy thing to do.

[apple-pathways.livejournal.com]

I think it's funny that the first song that came on my iTunes after I read your advice was a cover of The Beatles's "All Together Now" by Andre 3000. I'm no Andre 3000, and I'm certainly no John, Paul, George or Ringo!

It is good advice, though; I like the idea of your collection. Right now, I am surrounded by...junk, and a very messy desk, and...oh hey, there are those earrings I was looking for!

In the last week or so, I've started about five stories, only to abandon them either because I didn't have enough of an idea to begin with, or I was trying too hard to write like someone I'm not (and imitating that person rather poorly).

Ah well. This is what happens when bottle of wine meets monthly existential crisis meets internet connection.