How to Write Like a God

I’ve been reading a lot my favourite writers’ blogs recently, the majority of which tell me it’s important to create a platform for myself, and to create a blog that people will relate to, instead of incessantly talking about myself for posts on end.

And I don’t want to talk about myself for any longer than is absolutely necessary; I’m not even that interesting.

The blogs I read tell me to pass on my worldly advice instead, so that other readers (and writers) may find my blog interesting, to realise that writing in itself isn’t interesting (and yes, I will agree with that, a writer telling me how many words of their unknown and unfinished latest piece is of no interest to me…oh my, did I just create a paradox?).  I am meant to blog about my niche, whatever it is that I’m good at, and to share it with the world at large.

My niche?  Well, I’m a mid-twenties writer with an interest in vampires and lingering on the verge of alcoholism. Come join me, won’t you?!

Here’s my step-by-step guide to writing your next literary masterpiece, Penrefe-style.

  1. Grab a glass of your favourite alcoholic beverage.
  2. Drink it.
  3. Grab yourself a second glass.
  4. Open up your favourite Word Processing application.
  5. Write the first few paragraphs of unimaginable greatness.
  6. Reward yourself with finishing the second drink.
  7. Grab yourself a third drink.
  8. Question your purpose in life.
  9. Have another drink.
  10. Watch an episode of ‘Friends’, while continuing your amazing writing style. Maybe incorporate some Friends jokes into your own material. It’ll be fine; it’s not protected by copyright, anyway!
  11. Pause to call your best friend/parent/boss, to tell them about how you’re an amazing writer and you’re going to be famous and that you don’t need them anymore.
  12. Hang up.
  13. Write a few lines/paragraphs of something truly prolific, something with a lot of blood and guts, or some kind of spiritual awakening, something that you will read back to yourself when sober (what do you mean you’re not sober now?) and wonder who the hell snuck onto your computer and wrote it.
  14. Camouflage the greatness with a mountain of illegible and nonsensical nonsense.
  15. Continue to write and drink in this pattern until the distance between your face and the keyboard can be measured with a penny.
  16. Fall asleep, with the option of going to your bed or nearby pile of cushions, if you can make the distance.
  17. Wake up.
  18. Make yourself a coffee (or tea, if you’re particularly British), with a side of paracetamol.
  19. Turn on your computer (whether you slept on it or the cushions, the computer will have known it wasn’t needed at that point last night and turned itself off, while wondering what it must’ve done in a previous life to have ended up in your possession).
  20. Read over your literary masterpiece.
  21. Be amazed by the handful of good paragraphs in amongst pure shit.
  22. Call everyone your phone says you called last night and apologise, remembering to keep your apology generic, since you probably don’t remember at this stage what you said.
  23. Have another brew.
  24. Lather, rinse, and repeat.

Hope this helps you all on the road to literary greatness!