katiekitten
The Compromise
'Rustiness'
A question of interest: How does your writing style/writing experience typically become 'rusty', and what have you found is the best 'cure'? X3
(Mispelled 'rustiness' in the title... Not the phone this time, that was all me. XD)
I'm a rather sporadic writer (as the publish dates and the levels of completion of my 7 years of writing on this forum alone attest to). I go through periods of prolific out pourings and absolutely zilch for months (longest break was over a year long >.<). I'm always confronted when I try and get myself back into writing, therefore, a period of stilted, awkward prose that takes all too long to become intelligible. I'm rusty, and it normally takes the form of extremely abstracted writing- like the following, for instance, although I've attempted to edit it:
Sesshoumaru fingertips flicked out across the gap between them, brushing lightly against the soft skin of her arm. The motion was subconscious, an (instinctive) response to detected pain, and yet the memory of the warmth of it lingered in his thoughts as they stood side by side on the hill's cusp, surveying the choked remnants of the battle field that sprawled before them.
The carnage was unsurprising. Numerous other sights had greeted their erstwhile troop as they'd tracked the half-breed and his blood-born kin: it was to be expected, considering their quarry. The stench was that of ripening demonic carcases, bloating already under the summer sun; the charred, half-melted husk of a cherry tree the evidence of the presence of a toxin specialist, presumably the disembowelled Ox that lay slumped amongst the tree's roots.
Yet she grieved.
The woman shook beside him. Hunching under an incorporeal weight, she teetered her unusual footwear over the sharp edge of the hillside, struggling to comprehend a compassion that gnawed at her composure.
Her remorse was foolish- but, he found, it no longer surprised him.
His fingers twitched at his side, lost beneath the folds of his kimono.
She took another short, pained breath.
(Written for an lj 200 word prompt, so won't make sense without fandom knowledge I'm afraid >.<)
The best way I've found to overcome it is just keep writing: I eventually fall back into the rhythm and the.abstraction returns to manageable levels. x3 It can take a while, sometimes, but perseverating over a certain story is likely to be doomed - I seem to make things worse half the time I attempt to edit something too much. Taking a step back and rewriting after a while is normally the way to completely smooth out a piece of work, for me at least.
So yeah. Anyone have a similar experience? :3
A question of interest: How does your writing style/writing experience typically become 'rusty', and what have you found is the best 'cure'? X3
(Mispelled 'rustiness' in the title... Not the phone this time, that was all me. XD)
I'm a rather sporadic writer (as the publish dates and the levels of completion of my 7 years of writing on this forum alone attest to). I go through periods of prolific out pourings and absolutely zilch for months (longest break was over a year long >.<). I'm always confronted when I try and get myself back into writing, therefore, a period of stilted, awkward prose that takes all too long to become intelligible. I'm rusty, and it normally takes the form of extremely abstracted writing- like the following, for instance, although I've attempted to edit it:
Sesshoumaru fingertips flicked out across the gap between them, brushing lightly against the soft skin of her arm. The motion was subconscious, an (instinctive) response to detected pain, and yet the memory of the warmth of it lingered in his thoughts as they stood side by side on the hill's cusp, surveying the choked remnants of the battle field that sprawled before them.
The carnage was unsurprising. Numerous other sights had greeted their erstwhile troop as they'd tracked the half-breed and his blood-born kin: it was to be expected, considering their quarry. The stench was that of ripening demonic carcases, bloating already under the summer sun; the charred, half-melted husk of a cherry tree the evidence of the presence of a toxin specialist, presumably the disembowelled Ox that lay slumped amongst the tree's roots.
Yet she grieved.
The woman shook beside him. Hunching under an incorporeal weight, she teetered her unusual footwear over the sharp edge of the hillside, struggling to comprehend a compassion that gnawed at her composure.
Her remorse was foolish- but, he found, it no longer surprised him.
His fingers twitched at his side, lost beneath the folds of his kimono.
She took another short, pained breath.
(Written for an lj 200 word prompt, so won't make sense without fandom knowledge I'm afraid >.<)
The best way I've found to overcome it is just keep writing: I eventually fall back into the rhythm and the.abstraction returns to manageable levels. x3 It can take a while, sometimes, but perseverating over a certain story is likely to be doomed - I seem to make things worse half the time I attempt to edit something too much. Taking a step back and rewriting after a while is normally the way to completely smooth out a piece of work, for me at least.
So yeah. Anyone have a similar experience? :3
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