The Haunting Question and Paralysis

“If you could write anything, what would you write?”

Write that.

This is arguably the simplest and most fundamental question posed to all writers, yet is also the most daunting.

I cannot shake it. It haunts me. The very fact that I am writing this is proof of that. I sit here, drinking my morning coffee, a half hour before I start my workday feeling like I could do anything I choose for the next 30 minutes. I want to write but do not have a project prepared—-no prompt, no goal, no purpose. So, I ask myself, as I often do, “If you could write anything, what would you write?”

Frankly, I know the answer.

I know exactly WHAT I want to write and WHY I want to write it. It was evident in that handwritten journal entry I shared last week (pictured above). It’s been evident since 2006, when I had finished my feature film trilogy that I completed during my college years, while I was unemployed and living in California with delusions of grandeur, when I sat in the spare bedroom of my buddy’s house.

Back then, However, I only had the WHAT, not the WHY. I had the concept but not its function; I knew what I wanted to create but not for whom and why they’d need it.

Now I know.

And I’m terrified.

This undertaking—-this idea I have—-it will not be an easy task. Not one bit.

But maybe that’s the whole point of why I am stuck: I know just how hard it is going to be. And I know that it will prove even more difficult than I anticipate. I know what I want to do, why I want to do it, and for whom I want to do it.

Which kinda leads to a second haunting question,”Do I love them enough to get it done?”