少数派。

The title explains itself: I am writing again.

Or, more precisely put, I’m finally writing fiction again. If you recall my post from some time ago on my wips, you’ll remember that I’ve been writing for as long as I could remember and have a long list of wips I’m working on.

Except, you know, I kind of have been writing them for a long time without finishing them. (Note: I have finished one of them and have actually gone through a thorough first-round edit, of which I’m proud of.)

I’ve had to push myself through writing, to slog through the pages, just to put some words there. Don’t get me wrong: I love my wips. They are all dear to me.

And yet. For the longest time, I struggled. Writing, which had seemed like breathing to me, was now laboured, each word, each sentence, each paragraph and page a pain to birth.

But now that period is passed. Quite unexpectedly, towards the end of March, the realisation dawned on me: I can write again.

It was as simple as that. Once this realisation hit me, I began a new doc and started writing. I’ve written mostly every other day for the past month and have hit the 45K mid-mark in this wip. The wip in question is actually a newly-revisited version of the first major wip I’ve worked on that have been in the works for over ten years.

From late February to early March, I came to the realisation that the original plotline, while it was dear to me, would never carry forth the weight I wished it to or parse the complexities I had riddled it. It simply had too much going on–too many characters, too many complicated plotlines, too many pages that were not doing anything much for the story. It was not easy to let go of the story I had been clinging to for the entirety of my teenage years, and then into early twenties. But now that I grew up with it, I could properly see its flaws, its merits (which are not small), and the fact it would never do.

So I reworked it. I had to drastically cut most of the original cast, simplifying it down to roughly nine from the initial thirty-odd somethings. I scrapped the plot I had so far and replaced it with a completely new one that was simple and straightforward. (At least, as simple as I could make it.) From the scrambled notes, I marshalled together a cohesive outline where I actually knew what had to happen in each section of the story. I dug down deep into the pscyhe of each of the characters and knew exactly what they wanted, needed, and would get through the story. The reconstruction process felt both easy and hard at the same time, although leaning towards easy because now I knew what the story was. When there was nothing else to sort out fundamentally, I began writing.

I wrote and re-read and wrote. I fell asleep writing or reading what I’ve written. Some days, I’ve had to go back and cut out sections of superfluous words I put down and rewrite that section completely. Some days, I didn’t even recall what I’d written. But I was never in doubt.

This has been a completely new experience for me. Most times, when I write, it is an exercise in deliberation, of swift decision-making tests right after each other and I would timidly traverse the landscape I was deeply unfamiliar with. My first draft was usually riddled with plot-holes, no matter the detailed outline, and I would often have to pile up multiple versions of the draft just to get it right.

However. This time around, writing this wip seems completely different. I am not saying it would remain easy. Already, I know I have to prepare myself mentally as I go into the latter half of the novel where everything (supposedly) comes together and there are many challenges the MC must overcome. But it’s different. It feels so much easier, much more natural, that I’m writing it. I know I will finish it, and this time around, it won’t be the mess that I am at loss how to edit.

I am hesitant to rejoice in this experience. I might wake up tomorrow and realise, I’ve lost it. I’ve lost my ability to write again.

Or, I might just go and dance a little in the corner and go write some more and nothing might happen.

Anyways. I wanted to say out loud: I’m writing again. And boy, have I missed it.

Better go back to it, then.