How Do You Write So Much?

It’s been recently called to my attention that I have written a massive forty-five fanfictions for The Adventure Zone, a popular D&D podcast. If you haven’t listened to it, give it a try. It starts off slow, with just undiluted silliness and dick jokes, but by the end of it you cry about the dick jokes.

If you’re not laughing inside of ten episodes, you’re never going to laugh and this podcast is not for you. I’m okay with that. I won’t hate you if you dislike anything about the podcast… much.

Ahem.

So my daily routine is like: 
1. Rise and assist the family in greeting the brand new day
2. Write a story on Steemit [max 2000 words]
3. Write 500-1000 words in my novel-in-progress [1000 words happen on Fridays
4. Lunch
5. Return to Tumblr Hell and write a prompted fanfic for my peeps because that’s fun
6. And randomly scatter working on another fanfic during the hurry-up-and-waits of my day

That’s a LOT of writing. It’s actually increased since I got onto Keto because now, inflammation is not so big of a worry. I still force myself to rest when my wrists begin to twinge, but that’s WAY less often than it used to be.

I don’t have any real tricks to stay inspired enough to write. My daily challenge of Flash Fictions keeps the mental gears greased, but… I could easily be stumped by one of them and just melt down one day.

Heaven forfend.

The real truth is, I love to write. I have loved to make up stories since I was a pipsqueak. It’s part of my story. I have written tales and loved it. When I ran out of Creative Writing exercises in my schooling, I took up fanfic. I’ve just… always had ideas. Some derivative, some taking on a life of their own. I find playing with words to be immense fun.

Language has flavour to me. Some arrangements of words are so delicious that I have to write them down. I have a file of these things. Once and again, I’ll dredge one of them up and actually use them. Sometimes, I get fixated on one word or turn of phrase and I have to pepper it into everything.

I always say that I write because I can’t not write. Not writing is… distressing. I get anxious. Of course, it doesn’t help that I’m some level of Autistic and my preferred environments are (a) indoors, (b) alone, and, (c) possibly with a cat.

I interact with people better when there’s keyboards and screens between the two of us. Beloved and immediate family excluded, of course. Strangers, though, are pure nope unless I know that there’s a common factor we share. Which is why I do so well in nerdy atmospheres.

There’s also the joke that I spend 90% of my time in another reality. It’s comfy over there. Nobody throws things at you for being weird. And yes, that is an actual life experience of mine. I predate special education/allowances for Autistes. I had to suffer the slings and arrows of public school, adapt, survive, and develop camouflage. But that’s another story which may be told another time.

So with nowhere to go physically and little to enjoy when I get there and the kind of company that reviles my very existence, there’s few alternatives but making up stories of my own for my own entertainment. Sharing them with others and making them feel things started off as a bonus.

Now that I can see how much people react to what I write… Well… That shit is addictive. I can help people out. I can change someone’s day. I can freak people out over long distances and I gotta be honest… I love being able to do that. I’ve spent a majority of my life at home with the idea that I would never be able to help anyone or do anything worthy and I would be just another blip on the radar to the rest of the world.

Yeah. That was an abusive relationship.

I’m getting away from that notion. With each story I write, there’s a bunch of people who read it, who love it, who maybe even share it with their friends. I live for knowing that. I might be a voice alone in the darkness, but I know that there are others out there listening.

That, and I’ve fallen into the Indie Mental Trap of Always Make Content. That’s a vortex that I’ve covered before and will likely cover again. It’s an insidious trap, dear readers. It needs solid strategies.

When you come up with one, let me know? I’d like to have arms against this beast, one day.

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