(This post was originally written on 750words.com. It has been edited.)

Yesterday, I rambled a bit about my story. I don’t know why writing it is so hard. For, God, how many months in a row last year, I managed to write approximately 500 words almost every day. I managed that, and I didn’t even make up those characters. They still had to be who they are and who they are is someone that I didn’t create. But these characters are all me. I can make them do anything I want because they don’t do anything until I want them to. But I can’t seem to get to the moment.

Fandom had never been great to me in the first place. I always felt like I was writing stories into some kind of void. I rarely got the attention of other people. And I commented a lot. It’s not like that was the problem. Now, I just want to write original stories that sound like my favourite fan fiction. Because that’s what I want from a romance story. Not the stuff that gets published, the Harlequins and the Nora Robertses. I want stuff like the stuff I wrote. I wrote it because I couldn’t find it.