When Does Life Get In The Way Of Writing?

Does life get in the way of writing more than it helps?

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Lately I’ve been finding life getting too busy and complicated and it’s been messing with my writing time. The worst part is that it’s not just the busyness that ruins my writing times because I still have time to write. My mind is so warped and tired from the events around me, I just sit and stare at a computer screen and accomplish nothing.

However on the adverse, it’s been life that inspired me to do all my writing. Whether it was horror writing, realistic fiction or just songwriting, life has inspired it all. It was occurrences during my childhood and adolescence that inspired the horror. It was a dearly missed friend dying of cancer that inspired my realistic fiction. Lastly, it’s love and love-lost that inspired most of my songwriting.

I’ve found that extraordinarily good and bad things in life inspire writing – at least from me. Death, a breakup, finding love, or keeping a friendship alive, it all spurs embers in the writing mind’s fire. But the humdrum everyday buzz of life combats those more meaningful events. It’s a constant struggle with a push-pull state of warfare. It’s the taxes, the 40 hour work weeks, worrying about bills life that brings down creativity and brings to light apathy, fatigue, and laziness of the mind.

Maybe it’s the best writers that are able to use all aspects of life towards writing and I’m just not there yet. Still, it’s no fun being in a valley and not having the inspiration or heart to write. Writing is a bloodline after all and I’m only complete when I can pursue my career and dream.

Walter Died

This here is Walter, say hi.

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So I totaled my car the other day. Without going into the menial details, it wasn’t my fault and thankfully the insurance companies agree. However I found, and find myself rather sad about saying goodbye to my friend Walter. Yes, his name is Walter. Yes, it’s a HE.

Insert insecure gay joke here because I named my car a guy’s name…

But I’m curious to know how naming an inanimate object somehow gives it personality. Why am I attached to a car? I gave it the name Walter and assigned it a personality that doesn’t exist. I imagined the car having a mind of its own, fighting through the hot and cold seasons just to get me to where I needed to go when in reality it was just a series of metal and plastic pieces with no heart at all.

Is it because I’m a writer that I pretend to personalize a car? Is it because I’m young? I know I’m not the only young person to name a car or get hung over one when it gets trashed.

I call it a combination of the two, which is a double whammy unfortunately for myself. I think younger people are searching for so many things that they name vehicles to fill a void that hasn’t been filled by something more significant yet. Either that – or they do it because they’re bored.

I can only look at myself as an example. I’m single, besides my writing career which is taking its sweet time getting started, I work a crappy job and still struggle to support myself. There is a lot to be desired in my life. I have long friendships that blossomed in adolescent life, but in the shadow of adulthood, are dwindling down to but embers.

I took pictures of Walter because I wanted to remember him and the memories we shared. I had many life changing conversations and experiences within him. I went on my only vacation with my best friend and drove to Kentucky on 3 hours of sleep. I drove to North Carolina to meet my brother on a whim and went to countless shows. I took pretty girls on dates and got to fog up the windows on a few occasions. From my perspective, I should feel a degree of friendship with the car. I spent fragile years of my life with him. He was my bro. And in the end, he protected me when someone decided to be Pennsylvania’s dumbest driver.

People don’t do these things later in their life because they have filled those voids. Maybe my next car will have a name, maybe it won’t. I can only assume that when I have a car that doesn’t have a name, it means I’ve moved on to some degree.

But I’m young, and I’m a writer. I like adventure; anything to make life more interesting than it is. So here’s to you Walter, you magnificent bastard – here’s to the years I spent trying to figure myself out with you.

RIP

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The Belittling Of Writers

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STOP!

If you’re a writer you have heard the following statements:

“I always wanted to write a book, except…”

“You have so many good ideas – you should write a book!”

“You always have such great stories – you should write a book!”

“Can I be a character in one of your books?”

 

If you’re a writer you have seen the following phrases somewhere:

“Careful not to make me angry, I’ll put you in my next book! (Or some variation)

Okay, I can only think of one phrase…

All of these insult my passion and profession as a writer to the core of my being. Allow me to explain myself…

I’m all for having fun, making jokes about pretty much everything because who doesn’t want life to be fun? And maybe if these phrases and pieces of conversation were done so in moderation, it wouldn’t be bad because hearing one of these once in a while isn’t a big deal; hell, I wouldn’t even mind it at all. However, the volume of these phrases is out of control. Here’s why these statements are at heart – insulting the profession of writing and making a mockery of what we do.

 

  1. “I’ve always wanted to write a book, except I never had the time.” Let’s dissect this. This statement is fine if someone is actually interested and has a desire to write. However, that is never the case. It’s because they see your book and think how cool it would be to have a book of their own. So they put themselves on the same level as you by saying, “Yeah well, I always wanted to write a book, my friends tell me I should.”
  2. Be careful or you’ll end up in my novel. However innocent and joking as this statement is, a writer isn’t going to compromise his or her own’s book just to put someone they know in the story. It just belittles the act of writing a book. It’s difficult.

I need only ask one question: Do you write? The answer of that question will determine if you’re a writer or not.

Okay, so I’m not going to dissect each one, it would be redundant and boring. But the core belief of all these statements is consistently the belittling of writing. Just because someone thinks it would be cool to be a writer, doesn’t mean they have the stones to do it. And please hear me out, I don’t mean to put myself or fellow writers on some stage and say “YOU CAN’T BE US. WE’RE AWESOME.” That’s not at all what I mean.

For me, writing isn’t a fun, carefree thing I do because it’s my hobby. I already have an post on my site titled “Writing Is Not My Hobby.” It’s not my hobby. It’s my dream, my profession, my passion. It is literally the most important thing to me beyond family and friends. It’s everything to me. So when someone acts like my small and seldom accomplishments could be achieved by anyone who THINKS they could just pick up a pen and write an eighty thousand word book, it backhandedly slaps any writer in the face.

Being a writer is a hard life, and it only gets harder with the evolving…or devolving industry – depending on how you look at it.

Do you have an interest in writing? That’s great! Truly. Talk to a writer about it, they’d love to talk your ear off about everything and I mean everything. The majority of writers and authors are like most musicians – the nicest and most sincere people you will meet. They love talking about their passion. I would love to talk to anyone who wants to get into writing. But these nonchalant statements of how easy it would be to write a book are lazy and angering.

Maybe I’m being too sensitive, if so, just tell me. Zac, stop being a whiny (insert expletive). Either way – I don’t have many things that bother me. But this one takes the cake.

Thanks for reading my tirade.

What Made Me The Way I Am

I always see the absolute best in what a person can be.
It’s the same reason I am consistently disappointed in the worst part that shows.
So many present themselves in such a beautiful way on their media pages.
Underneath they’re hollowed out caverns of a soul.

It makes me wonder what made them that way.
Isn’t that the question for all of us?
Why are you the way you are?
What made me the way I am?

Writing Is Not My Hobby

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(picture from http://www.sliverofice.com/blog/)

How many writers are out there who are belittled and dismissed as lost souls with a useless hobby?
I’ve just published my 4th book and I’m taken aback when people so close to me refer to my career as a hobby.

A man slaves over wood for hours, days, weeks and months to make a beautiful table and chairs. He may work somewhere to pay the bills but he does his wood work because he loves it. That isn’t a hobby. It’s art and he’s an artist.

I write novels, short stories and poetry. It is art and I am an artist.
Do you write? Draw? Paint? Slave over something you love?
You’re a goddamn artist.

Thank you for reading
Zac Zinn

Demonic Possession Inside The Mind

Have you ever wondered what it’s like inside the mind of someone who is possessed by a demon from hell?

In my new book, Infernous – you find out just that. It’s a dark and twisted story as well as a quick read at 90 pages.

It’s on sale starting today!
Paperback
Kindle

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Thank you for reading
Zac Zinn

A Song For Swans is FREE!

A Swan Song is something to behold. The silent swan is quiet for its entire life before unveiling a beautiful and revelatory song just before it dies.
Landon is a teenager who’s just gotten cancer a 2nd time and he’s about to go down a dark road. But his story is not without his own Swan Song.

This is A Song For Swans – and for this week it is free on Kindle.

Download here!sfghtrjdrygjkttt

The Story of Blackwater

Here is a short story I’ll be putting out in small sections.

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Blackwater – Part One

1871

The rain had never come down so hard as it did that night. Samuel looked out to the window near the front door and saw water running down the pane. It wasn’t the type of rain that the water had to accumulate enough weight to begin rolling down. Tonight there was no standing water. It poured down at an alarming rate.Thunder crashed and roared after a flash of light soared across the dark sky.

There were many things to be worried about that night. The rain threatened to flood his simple house. Already he was afraid to check the cellar. The moon had disappeared many hours before, just as the storm began. It wasn’t covered by storm clouds, but just dimmed until it dissolved into oblivion. When Samuel looked out his front window and found a sky so dark it seemed to suck the light from the candles lighting the house.

There were strange noises outside. Noises that didn’t come from the violence of a storm, not even a storm that took the moon away. Samuel’s mind wandered for a moment trying to make sense of the sounds he heard. However before too long he stopped himself. Nothing good would come of dwelling on such possible evils, he thought. There were many things to be worried about that night; each one worse than the former. But the most frightening one was the knowledge that Samuel’s brother was out there somewhere.