Blank Page

“1,000 words… 1,000 words. Sheesh that’s not a lot… what do I even write about?” That’s the only thing I can think as I stare at the screen. With that line blinking. Waiting for me to type something. Just anything. Blinking. Blinking. Blinking.

It’s the consistency of it. It’s like the tapping of a foot, the shaking of a knee, those little quirks that grate on your nerves. You can just barely not look at it, but you can’t quite block it out. That line still blinking at me.

Blinking just like the blank looks I get when I space out in conversation. Or when I say something I’m not supposed to. Those blinking eyes that stare back at you. That awkward silence that ensues. Yes, that one. Now this line is blinking right at me. Another awkward silence.

Why did I start writing in the first place. It gave me confidence. That first view. It was exhilarating when you realized someone read what you wrote. Until you realized it was just you clicking on your own post and that no one had read it yet. Then refreshing and seeing two views! Only to realize a refresh increases the view count as well. A nervous lip bite, a twiddle of the fingers before you quickly close that tab. Then to come back an hour later and there are 26 views. Not just 26 views but a comment! One comment! You hover over that comment tab before you click it. And…. it’s… A great review! They loved it! Someone out there loved it and your heart skips a beat. Then comes checking back in on it. People are asking for a chapter 2! There’s more likes, there are some follows and better than that there are some people who enjoyed your fantasy. Wow… you could get used to this!

That was the beginning. After that, the stories sort of just flowed. All before it all came crashing down. Before I deleted it all and ended up hating my writing.

And now here we are… back to that blinking line. |     |     |  

A day has passed.

And the notepad is still empty. 0/1,000 words. The line is still blinking at me.

I had fallen into the trap of going out to read for some inspiration. There were so many great authors on the page. Too many to list out here. I ended up using all of my energy on other… shall we say activities. So now a day has passed and we are back to the start. A fresh day, full of energy, rigor and possibilities. Surely today is the day I write a masterpiece!

What was there to write about?

I used to rely on random sparks of inspiration, but perhaps I needed a more systematic approach. Who should I start with?

Karina. She’s been the ultimate bias. That godly body that actually made her my new ulti even as an ass guy. The pure sensuality she oozes, that would be an easy write. Or I could go with someone more unconventional, maybe Yujin. Not that Yujin, Yujin from Kep1er, I was sure no one else wrote about her in 1,000 words. There were too many girls to write about. Dahyun, Yuna, Kazuha the list is endless.

Maybe a better place is to think of a theme first. Something out of the ordinary, a regular smut wouldn’t stand out. I wanted a challenge. If I was going to get back into writing, I wanted it to be hard. I wanted it to be interesting. But what was there to write? No expansive world, that was too much. An idol meeting a fan, that’s been done many times. An idol meeting a writer who wrote a story on them? That would be plagiarizing a story I read back in the day about Seulgi. OH! How about making something so intense and dark that it… No no… that might feel like cheap theatrics. Plus that wasn’t my style.

Maybe I need some inspiration.

I take a look at the others in the writing competition. “Over 50?!?!” When did it skyrocket that much? I remembered reading the first one, “XXXXXXX”. That one was already so amazing. The psychology of Wony and that beautiful ending. So much said that was unwritten. Chef’s kiss.

But what could I write? Can I even stand out? Would anyone even like my writing like before? The gnawing sensation in my gut only deepens. As if chewing on any last resolve I had.

Why was I writing? Was it for the pocas? I mean partially but really that was an excuse. A chance to inject some extra motivation into these old veins. To move these creaky fingers again. To dust off the rust from the gears in my writer’s brain. To teach my words to dance on the page again. To flow, to connect, to speak but mostly to feel. To spark something in someone. Anyone. I wonder if I can still do that…

.

.

.

The line is still blinking. Still there. But perhaps it’s not an awkward silence. Maybe that was the wrong way to think about it. Maybe it is an old friend. An old friend waiting to connect again. An old friend that is blinking and staring with anticipation at what will be said next. Yes, that’s true as well. This blinking line, it isn’t something to dread. It is something to look forward to.

Take a deep breath. One word at a time. They always say to have a sucky first draft. That’s how every writer starts. That’s how to start.

Who am I? A writer

What will I write? A story

Who will read it? Not sure, but that’s okay

Is it really okay? Of course, as long as I had fun. Hopefully others will enjoy it as well.

Hello my old friend, it’s good to see you again.

Thanks for reading!