Maybe I’ve been so obsessed with writing lately because… Dammit, I forgot. I should carry a notebook around. I had a line thought up. It went something like, “At once I’m in control, and at once I relinquish it.” I’m the writer, I have control over everything. But when I put myself in a character’s shoes, I control nothing. I thought, “Maybe I’d like to be poked and prodded into action, to save me the trouble of having to push myself around.” But then I realized: Maybe that’s why my stories have been boring lately.
Maybe my characters, like me, are waiting to be poked and prodded. Maybe that’s why my stories don’t seem to flow so freely: Because there’s an enormous burden on me to try to motivate my characters from the outside. Instead of making a person with life within them, I’m trying to shove life into them from without. And even if I get them to move, they’ll only be puppets.
I guess this is the problem God tried to solve with free will. He put the burden on us to make decisions and move ourselves, not because He can’t handle moving us Himself, but because it would be very dull, for Him and for us.
It goes without saying, then, that I should stop waiting for something to push me around. God wrote me but He didn’t write my story. That burden is on me, for the sake of both of us.