[dropcap]M[/dropcap]y peers have always thought of me as an opinionated person, since I always have something to say on just about anything. But now, as I sit at my computer picking my brain for something to write about, I remain at a loss for words.
It’s writer’s block, I say to myself. So, I decide the best cure for this is to binge Entourage for, well, three and a half hours. When I finish the series, I return to my blank word document. I thought I could argue about Entourage, or the song I’m listening to, and watch the words appear magically on the screen.
My problem is that I can’t give reasons for why something is particularly awesome or why it’s just horrible. Half the time anything I say is just because I feel that way. There’s no real logic behind it; and realistically, nobody wants to read, “Entourage is a great show. Yup. That’s all.”
I don’t understand why I can’t get anything down on paper. When did backing up what we say become so difficult? Perhaps it wasn’t until I started writing for The Peak at the beginning of this semester that I realized this.
It’s also noteworthy to understand that these opinion pieces are supposed to range from 450 to 550 words. That’s a lot of words for one opinion, don’t you think? Do people even have 500 words to say? Do people even read 500 words for something that isn’t for class? Or even if it is for class?
On the other hand, let’s say you’re passionate about something specific. When Adam, the lovely Opinions Editor, approves it for writing, you’re overjoyed! Best day ever, am I right? But then the follow-up e-mail pops up 12 minutes later: “Oh, and please keep it to a 500 word maximum.”
Do people even read 500 words for something that isn’t for class? Or even if it is for class?
Here come the waterworks.
By this point, you’re already a solid 763 words into an introduction on how Brussels sprouts have changed your life, and now you’re crying as you try to cut it down. The problem is that everything you’ve written seems important. Your tears fill up the bowl of Brussels sprouts you’ve been munching on. You like it, so you write a little bit more. When you get to your 2,674 word count, you submit it, explaining to Adam you just didn’t know how to hone it. YOLO, you think.
Whether or not Adam decides to actually print that content, you feel fulfilled. You feel accomplished, you feel completed, you feel good.
Where to now? You’ve already written about what you care about the most, and now you’re stuck scrambling for ideas by yourself since all of Adam’s weekly story pitches have been taken. You remain uninspired, but you love to write, so now you’re stuck.
And when you start writing about how difficult it is to write an op-ed, that’s officially when your creative juices have hit rock bottom, unless adding those Brussels sprouts to your daily green smoothie regiment really did spark some new creativity in you.
Either way, I recommend you watch some Entourage. It’s a great show. Yup. That’s all.