Today has been mega tiring. I woke up early, wrote a ton, then rushed to tango class, where we danced for three hours. Needless to say, both my fingers and feet need a break. But as someone who has vowed to make at least one blog post every day, there is no such thing as a break.
Writing is one of those strange things in life that is both easier and harder to do the more you do it. Starting out, the motivation is all there. You've got a great story idea, or an awesome blog post planned out, all you need to do is get it on paper. That's the part that takes time and practice. Once you get kind of good at it, or at least more experienced, it's no longer a lack of know-how that stands in your way: it's yourself.
I can crank out 15 pages a day for screenwriting no problem. Good pages? Absolutely not. But they will be pages, and any page is better than no page. The problem is that it's so tiring to sit, and think, and conjure up sensible sentences out of thin air that both demonstrate the emotional depth of your characters and still maintain the sort of brevity and diction needed to appear clever.
And it's painful to write. So often we write about the things that make us sad, or make other people sad, or used to make us happy but now make us sad. Writing is like picking a scar on your body at random and slicing it open in the exact same way so you can remember how it hurt. Of course, not all writing is like this. But invariably, the way your characters react in the face of adversity will be based on your own personal experiences, and critically analyzing those experiences can bring up some rough stuff.
Anyway, I haven't stood in 2 hours and my feet still hurt, so I'm going to try to distract myself with sleep.