I’ve hit day 10 of my 1000 word a day writing challenge, and I’ve hit a brick wall with my current short story. I’m 10,000 words into what will probably turn out to be a 5000-ish word short story, and I’ve run out of steam. Not with writing, just with this story in particular.
In the late-90s there was a television show on Channel 4 in the UK called For the Love of…. Each week the show’s presenter, Jon Ronson, of The Men Who Stare at Goats fame, would tentatively guide panel discussion with a group of people who had a strange or unusual passion.
I started writing my planned article for today, but when it reached 1000 words and had no end in sight, I decided to write this one instead and continue the other tomorrow.
I’m not entirely sure what happened, but I got a little carried away with a subject I’m pretty passionate about, so you’ll have to forgive me substituting this rambling mess instead, but you’ll be able to read the other post shortly.
I’m pretty sure there’s the plot of a Stephen King novel in this somewhere; if only I were clever enough to write it.
Snapchat was the first time I didn’t get it, and still don’t. It was the first time I felt I’d crossed the yearning chasm of youth and was looking back from the other side. It was the first time that I realised Facebook was for the old people (anyone over 25) and that I would never again feel the excitement of feeling a part of something new; instead I would be worried about things like privacy, GDPR, and wasting time.
Yes, there are things like Trump and Brexit which I will never fully understand and took me by surprise, but they didn’t knock my consciousness like the Snapchat revelation. But Snapchat wasn’t the last time I would be knocked sideways by my failing youth.
And yesterday it happened again.