“I’m Batman”, he said in the deepest voice he could muster, sounding more like a frog croaking to death.
I’m sorry, I can’t imitate Christian Bale that well.
I’ve been suspected of being The Dark Knight by Jenny over here Scribbles on Napkins because she couldn’t find my true identity. I would have preferred Deadpool because I like to think I’m half as funny as he is. But I’ll take dark and broody. I’m easy… Not cheap! Just easy. Ask my Wife.
Back to the reason why Jenny is now my favourite person-whom-I’ve-never-met. I won an opportunity to write a guest post for her blog.
Being asked to write a guest blog is much more daunting than one would expect. At least for me. I can scribble any shenanigans on my own site, Ah Dad for those who were previously uninformed, and not be intimidated by the opinions of the literaty. The literaty being any writer who has written a novel and got published and stuff. I accepted the challenge, for I’m Batman. And this is where the shit got messy… I didn’t have the foggiest clue what to write about!
(I wonder if I am allowed to use the word “shit” on another person’s blog? Forgive me Jenny, this is virgin territory for me, like my high school career.)
Then the universe shifted and I got an idea…
What better way to introduce Ah Dad… to her prolific, educated, beautiful and highly intelligent audience than to write about why I write.
Writing is like that scene from American History X where the poor dude gets his jaw broken by Edward Norton’s boot when he forces him to lie with a gaping mouth over the pavement. Get the picture? I’m sorry if you did. O-kay fine, it’s not exactly like that. Writing is more painful.
At least on some days.
Then on the diamond days, my mind is able to conjure a gazillion ideas and my thick, (but very manly) fingers can’t keep up with the creative juices spewing like lava from Vesuvius. Burning and flowing down the side of the mountain, destroying any self doubt I might have of not being a full-blown writer. Firing up ambition of one day becoming a published author with movie rights. Or maybe even a trilogy. (If that chick who wrote Fifty Shades of Crap can do it, anybody can!)
Only to end up having days where your imagination evaporates like water on Mars. Leaving behind a red, desolate, barren, unforgiving and uninhabitable void, crushing any dreams of writing anything worth reading. Never mind the movies. Like that jaw-on-pavement thing.
Still I push on. I persevere. Like a stubborn donkey. Or a regenerating Superhero waiting for my limbs to grow back, simply because I crave the diamond days like a monkey on crack. I cherish the days when the volcano rumbles and creates that exhilarating feeling of lava exploding from my soul onto a clear blue screen. It’s spectacular!
And that is what writing does for me. It releases my inner beauty and its beast.
But writing takes time. Google tells you that forty words per minute is an average typing speed. I’m certainly not average. I think I manage around twenty. And that excludes the time I take with the whole autocorrect management process. And the re-writes. A piece of 1000 words can take anything from one to two/three/forty-seven thousand hours. But it’s hours of bliss. Hours where I’m tucked away in my own little world where everything else disappears. In that world it’s just me and the cursor, racing across the screen, on a quest to save a galaxy far, far away…
And I’ve learned so much through writing. To be patient. To exploit my imagination. To listen. To observe. To appreciate. Writing is a journey of self-discovery.
I write stories of my attempts at parenting two teenage kids and about my lovely Wife and all my wonderful friends. I write about trying to win the battle of fat vs fit, about all the weird and wonderful places I’m fortunate to see and how I’m trying NOT to kill any of my colleagues. I guess I write about life and that’s like pulling on a string from a never-ending sweater. Peeling away layer after layer of an infinite onion because life is anything but boring.
People are much more than what we think we are. We are greater than what others might tell us. We have more potential than what we are made to believe. And therefore everyone can achieve anything; it’s as simple as going out and getting it. As long as we have the guts, the passion, a constant attitude adjuster and the determination of a tantrum throwing toddler in a mall, we can be anything we want to be…
Even Batman. Or Deadpool.
Hilarious blogger Deadpool (okay, okay, Pieter) WON the opportunity to blog here as the winner of one of our Sunday Scribble Challenges. I’m glad I got to share his blog with you, because it’s one of the FINEST collections of musings I have ever come across. You need to stop what you’re doing and GO READ IT NOW. Spend an hour and go through the posts. You won’t regret it, I promise.
Did you know YOU can win the chance to guest on Scribbles on Cocktail Napkins too?? Just click #SSC on the toolbar above to check out the prompt for this week’s challenge. Participation is quick and easy, and a great way to
procrastinate interact with your writing peers.
These flash fiction challenges fuel creativity! They’re also a relatively painless pool for writers who’ve never posted their work to wet those feet, OR for established authors/bloggers to pick up a few new readers.
What are YOU waiting for? This week’s challenge wraps up Saturday. Unleash your writerly self.