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My thoughts...
Hemingway was right.
You don't just write. You don't stay in front of a keyboard tipying some words in hopes that you can write a comprehensive sentence. You don't put words together in order for them to make sense.
You sit in front of a keyboard and bleed. You bleed the shit out of your soul. You get possessed by the story in a way that is hard to come back to reality, as you would much rather live there, with them. You emerge in that story like there is no tomorrow. Sometimes you write 20 pages, sometimes you just stare at that freaking screen until your vision becomes blurry. You fight back tears and frustration, that you even begin to think that everything is doomed from the beginning, but no, you fight the fear of failure, you strugle through tears and move on, because at the end of the day, that annoying thing that you hear in the back of your mind stops, you find silence, because the story is finally out of your system. You build characters, each more complex than the other, with different backgrounds, different life stories. You build a world that exists only in your mind but you want to share it with the rest of the world, because is so freaking amazing what you've build, that you do want to share it, even if it's for free.
You pour your soul in a few words like they are your life. Sleeples nights thinking of the next chapter to write, thinking of your characters as they've become one of you, building different scenarios, beginning and endings...
You don't just write.... you bleed...
