So, I think this is the time I'll actually make it, the arduous climb up the icy walls of The Mountain of a Hundred Words.
Been close; ninety-seven, ninety-eight, got even as far as ninety-nine, but that last fucking word wouldn’t come – just sat there in my synapses, jam locked like an ass-out-first baby stuck in the birth canal of its poor mother.
Is that too graphic?
Maybe so, but I’m trying to convey the frustration of countless hours of non-successful writing.
This time though, I’ve strapped on my crampons: so let’s go!
D.M. almost 4 years ago
It is a mountain! You are so right. Some days the climb is more than arduous.
(I have been trying to turn a few of my drabbles into haibun, and the haiku leap
has me hurdling over the edge.)
Thomas Andersen almost 4 years ago
However, the payoff that comes from the ‘perfect sentence’ is worth quite a lot of frustration!
Julie almost 4 years ago
Tried climbing that mountain again yesterday - three times. Each time I had to return to base camp. Some writing days are just like that. Other days, you reach the top of the mountain without even breaking a sweat - love those days!
Neville Hunt almost 4 years ago
Good one Thomas. My problem is usually from the other direction, losing words I have loved. But, as you have observed, getting to that perfect sentence makes parting with them a 'sweet sorrow'.
Thomas Andersen over 3 years ago
Thanks Julie and Neville.