Boshra Writes

Boshra Writes

Running is very much like writing. It is a solitary, endurance sport. You get up at stupid o’clock, hunker down to the start line and you start putting one foot in front of the other. Or, in the case of writing, one word in front of the other. At first it is refreshing, liberating, and despite being as natural as mother-nature; it is radical. Half way through the exercise it starts becoming attritional, your inner voice starts nagging, like an old worn-out record. You start doubting your attempt at this futile exercise. You may even start hating it. Then, something emerges in the pain and rawness: an opening in the human spirit, followed by stubbornness or anger at the muses; you curse yourself and simultaneously them, at how something can be so addictive and so painful at the same time. Nearing the end of the exercise you come to peace with it as your feet successively hit the ground, or as one word appears after another, and you take it all in; the pain, the pleasure, the utter stupidity at your attempt to do justice to yourself, to take care of what needs to be beaten out of your soul. Then, when it is all over, you promise yourself you’ll never do it again. You’ll never sign up for a marathon, you’ll never write another novel. There is also a sense of foreboding; I don’t think I can ever beat my PB (personal best); I don’t ever think I can ever write another novel. It is then that you realize you’re hooked. It’s Hotel California. Before you know it, you’ve signed up for the next marathon, you’ve written another outline, or you’ve pantsered your way through another chapter. It’s not your fault after all; these acts of human volition make you feel alive.

5 Responses

  1. Yes..The part about Writing ..not running…making you feel alive resonates so strongly.Time passes ..The clock 🎂falls from the wall…I don’t see or hear that..This is the bliss of writing for me..This is timeless immersion…no.past or future. There is only the paper..my words..my thoughts..My hand as tools in the process.Other times it’s just slogging along ..Putting one foot in front of the other. Not quite running.. but. knowing you’re getting there slowly.

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