Why I Hate Writing

Comments

[xjuggernaughtx]

I feel like this all the time! The imagery is so clear in my head and I struggle to figure out how to translate that onto the page.

[ssssssssssssss]

lol

[RazgrizS57]

This is getting out of hand. You need to stop being so much like me. It's scary.

[Hoopy McGee]

Writing would be so easy if it weren't for all those damnable words.

[zaponator]

Don't worry about it. It's the story that matters. I've read simply amazing books with the most basic descriptions ever.
I get that this is a joke image, but for the people who actually struggle with this, just don't worry about it. So long as you make sure to describe everything, describing it all beautiful and poetically is optional.
Just tell the story.

[BaroqueNexus]

Writing doesn't have to be extremely flamboyant or overly descriptive; it can be simple. But I do understand the sentiment. I struggle with being able to convert a scene in my mind to text, or stick with one story at a time. There's just a crap ton of distractions that pop in and out.

Sometimes I feel like I'll never get my novel done...

[Skywriter]

Amen.

[Rising Vision]

Or there is the instances where you amazingly tap into your mind and think of the best description ever, and it just so happens you have nothing to write with. Yeah.

The Vision Shall Rise

[Mindblower]

Well, it all depends on the metaphoric and / or symbolic significance of that specific tree to the themes and motifs of the story.

[PatchworkPoltergeist]

This.

[Filler]

Yes.

[Fonypan]

This is exactly why I have 20 incomplete stories that are like 500+ words long.

[archonix]

yep seems about right

(also I managed to miss the blog and post this on your userpage somehow first... )

[Matt11]

i have the same problem that's y it takes me a few months just to upload a new story or chapter

[LoneUnicornWriter]

Definitely true.

[k64speed]

I've had similar moments.

I think I have a cousin problem, though. I end up writing descriptions that sound trite (or downright terrible) to me, but then other people say they're good.

[Karach]

True story, bro.

[SleeplessBrony]

There was a tree.

Apple Bloom stared at it, in the distance. The only thing standing out from miles and miles of bright, hard, sun-scorched dirt.

There was a tree, and it was slightly larger than last time she looked.

She grunted and pulled again, wincing at the stinging pain in her lungs. Applejack dragged behind her, as stubborn as ever, even passed out as she was.

Apple Bloom wasn’t sure how long they’d been carrying on like this. She tried to look up, to track how high in the sky the sun had risen, but it just made her eyes hurt.

No use, looking up. But there was a tree.

She snorted and pulled and dragged, like she’d seen her brother and sister do for long years on the farm, her hooves scratching shallow furrows in the hard shell of the ground before finding purchase and dragging Applejack a few tiny, desperate inches.

Apple Bloom felt her sister shaking, felt her chest rasping and heaving and sending tremors up the line Apple Bloom held gritted in her teeth. All that was left of the little wagon they’d left Ponyville with.

Applejack let out a few dry, hoarse coughs. She didn't talk, or maybe she just didn't succeed in talking.

Apple Bloom didn't look back. She bowed her head and took a deep breath, dragging and pulling just the same as before.

There was a tree. Applejack knew, somehow. That was all.

Wordlessly, she felt Applejack scrabbling behind her, grunting and pushing and dragging her hooves on the ground. Her body was just that much lighter, pushing herself, helping Apple Bloom to drag her to that one thing out here, in lands the Sisters had forsaken long ago.

There was a tree, and it was close enough that Apple Bloom could almost make out its real shape, branches springing to life out of what was a blurry brown sprig.

Apple Bloom didn’t look back, didn’t look at anything but the tree, feeling the buzzing of angry hornets in her head as she fought under the endless sun. Almost there. Just a little longer.

She didn’t look back. She didn’t see the long trail behind them, rusty-reddish brown smears of blood, already baking away and fading in the cracked earth they’d left behind.

But there was a tree. And they were almost there.

[RBDash47]

1952992
Jesus.

[SleeplessBrony]

1953274

Right?

This is why we should REALLY hate writing.

[Mogss]

And my -currently non-existent- story also starts with being under a tree.
And I only described it as obvious.
Does that even count as a description?

[Donnys Boy]

Hee! Also: accurate.