The Pains of a Writer

Demi quirked his eyebrow up. "Why are you writing these kinds of stories? I mean, nothing is going on and I can't help but feel like you're doing this as a way of ranting."

"Hey, sometimes, you just have to have a little chat, alright?!" I shot back. He rose his hands in surrender while I wrote on.

But I knew he was right.

********FFF******

It was cold. Close to Christmas in fact. The wet winds whipped around my southern urban home as I sat inside my apartment with a mug of hot chocolate. The steam tickled my nose.

"Ah, Ah, Ahhchoo!"

I shut my eyes for the briefest second before realizing everything around me had changed. An old wooden table sat in front of me, familiar kitchen cupboards with no varnish, and the faint smell of noodles lingered in the air. I saw my now tan furry lion hands. "Oh come on!" I shouted. I looked at the cup of warm tea in my hands now, surprised that my beverage would change as well. I took a sip.

Ginger tea. Very nice.

But it didn't help the sinking feeling in my stomach.

"Hey Tigress? Is that you?" Said a familiar voice. A black and white bear rounded the corner. "Oh, Lion! I didn't know you were up here. What are you doing here?"

"Trying to figure out who I can complain to about the inter-dimensional travel," I muttered as I stood up and bowed in the tradition. Of course, Po gave me his standard-issue big heavy pat on the back; he doesn't actually hug as much as you'd think. "How are you doing, Po?"

"Awesome as always... well, not always. Usually, I'm not really awesome when I have to fight another bad guy or something major like not messing up a ceremony," Po rambled. I smiled gently. "But how are you? You look down."

"Am I supposed to look up?"

"Uhh-"

"It was a joke, Po. Sorry, I'm just... a little upset," I sighed.

Why was I talking about this? Why did I even bring it up? Even writing about this, later on, would be beneficial to absolutely no one. So why bother talk about it?

"Do you want to talk about it?" Po asked.

Yes.

I physically nodded. Po sat down and grabbed a bowl of food that was nearby. "So, what's the problem? Last time you were here, you came back from the Spirit Realm to talk to Oogway and Tai Lung. Still can't believe he's buddy-buddy with Master Oogway now."

I shrugged, not really interested in that backstory. "I... I don't know if I'm a good writer or storyteller."

"What? Why?"

"Lately, my stories have been more... boring, to be honest. And they're boring because I've been listening to other people too much. Of course, I didn't realize the toxicity going on."

"I'm sorry what?" Po asked.

"Basically, people... comment on my stories and I enjoy anyone's comment unless it's just self-promotion or threats. Heck, I enjoy constructive criticism. Or at least now I do," I sighed, "But over time, other writers have been demanding people to look at their writing and taking offense to people's constructive comments, even if it's no big deal. And so, writers will complain about comments, readers won't comment because of the complaints of comments and the cycle continues."*

"Ugh, my brain hurts just hearing it," Po muttered.

"Yeah, that's why I've tried over time to... largely ignore the comments because I want to encourage some freedom of speech."

"Some?"

"I'm... unfortunately learning that not everything should be said. Just like everything evil shouldn't be done."

"Oh, that makes sense," Po rolled his shoulders back. "But what does this have to do with your stories?"

I sighed, "I guess... when I was younger, things came to me so naturally. Now that I'm older, I have to relearn some things, unlearn some things, and all in between. I'm just now learning how I actually like to write."

Po tilted his head a bit. "Why is that a bad thing?"

"I don't know, I just... I used to be good?"

"Were you?"

"Huh?"

"I don't mean to be rude, but I remember what it was like to carve my first Tigress action figure. I cut off her head about nine times," Po smiled.

I slowly rose my head. "Is that why the Tigress action figure is so important to you?"

"Yeah, because it was very hard to make," Po replied. "My point is maybe you're over-exaggerating how good you used to be. Maybe you're just having growing pains. It happens. It doesn't mean you're a bad writer. A bad writer is someone who thinks they're good and doesn't try to learn."

I gave a closed-mouth chuckle. "I keep forgetting how wise you can be."

"What are you talking about? I'm always wise."

"Really?" I remarked.

"Okay, okay. So I don't always make the best choices when fighting-"

"Or eating, or drinking, or cooking."

"But," Po grumbled out, "That doesn't mean I don't know anything."

"Hmm," I agreed, resting my head on my hand. Staring out the small window of the kitchen, I daydreamed a bit while Po scarfed down some food. "Why do we teach ourselves to hate ourselves?"

"Huh?"

"I mean, I write about you because your whole journey is about figuring out who you are. Something I can really empathize with. Because I get it. I know what it's like to hate yourself. To want to be someone else. But what makes us hate ourselves?"

"I don't know. Maybe other people? Expectations?" Po guessed.

I nodded. "I guess, but it's like we let that happen to us. Like... a bandit on the road calling you fat isn't a problem but-"

"My Kung Fu idols are?" Po smiled knowingly.

"Right. I mean.. I didn't mean to-"

"It's alright, Lion. The guys and I have gotten over it," The panda smiled, "But I get what you mean. It's kind of hard to shut off that thing in our heads that says we're not good enough."

"And I know that's been your story for a while."

"Huh? No, it hasn't."

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Yeah, I still wonder whether I'm good enough from time to time. But life isn't always about being good enough. It's about... being yourself. Being the unique little snowflake you are that adds a little bit of color to the world. Wait, snowflakes are all white. Oh! It's like spices! Every spice is different and has a different taste and smell. Yeah, that's a better picture. Even though you understand your readers' issues a little more, you still have to focus on being yourself, not pleasing others."

I smiled wider. "I guess you're right."

"You can't focus on your can't. Focus on your can," Po said.

I laughed, "Now that is something Master Oogway would say."

"I've been practicing," Po smiled proudly. I smiled back. Quite honestly, I had been focusing on the pain and inability of Po in hopes of figuring out how to get out of my own. But he was right. Maybe I was so focused on what he couldn't do that I wasn't focused on what he could.

So why not do the same for me?

Suddenly, my eyes squinted and I scanned the room, glaring and staring each and every direction. "Is something wrong?" Po asked.

"Tigress is close."

"How do you know?"

"I'm cold."

"I can't tell if you're paranoid or good at sensing," Said a voice from the doorpost of the kitchen.

I dramatically smirked at the striped woman. "Both. I can always be both."

"But anyway, don't worry about what your head is saying. Odds are, it's trying to tell you something that, in the end, either won't matter or won't be as bad as you think," The panda continued.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He shrugged, "I don't know. Over time, that voice in my head stopped talking when I started talking to it." Tigress and I shared a look of concern. "I'm not crazy." I made a face that did not believe a word he said. "Okay, I'm saying something crazy right now, but that's not the point. What I mean is Master Shifu and everyone tells me to let things go and have inner peace or whatever."

"I would hope the Dragon Warrior wouldn't be so callous about the ancient teachings," Tigress firmly stated.

"My point is that rather than fighting your thoughts of feeling like a bad writer, maybe listen to them. You don't have to do what they say or believe them. Just let them vent, like you would do with a friend. Maybe your feelings of being a bad writer are trying to tell you that you want your stories to be good. Like quality-wise."

"But I do want them to be good. Like my old stuff."

"Yeah, but like you said, you might be listening to the wrong people. And you might be comparing yourself to something that isn't real. Look at your earlier work. Was it really that good?"

"Other people thought so."

"Ah, so this isn't about being a good writer. It's about being a good writer for other people. Sounds like you're less worried about what you write and more worried about other people's opinions. You know better than to fall into that trap," Po smiled. I rolled my eyes, though I could see Tigress's smirk in the corner of my eye. Somehow, the panda's smile irritated me.

Maybe because he was right.

"Alright, you got me. I do care about what others think of my work. I like the compliments. I... don't get many of them that address my abilities for me."

"How so?" Po asked.

"For example, I'm a good musician, but that's only because my dad wants to live out the joy of playing music through me."

"Which taints your gift, doesn't it?" Tigress chimed in. I sighed. I knew she understood.

"But... I know at some point I have to do things for myself to grow. As much as people think self-growth and self-care are so great, it's probably the hardest thing in the world to do. It's just... the idea seems so..."

"Selfish." Po, Tigress, and I all said at the same time. I gave a small smile. Shared hardships do bring people together.

"But," Tigress spoke up, "You can not give water from an empty well."

"I know," I muttered.

"Then do," Tigress replied firmly.

"Hm, you remind me of my little sister," I smirked. "But thank you. Both of you. You two have been the greatest teachers I've ever had."

"But we haven't taught you anything," Po chuckled a bit.

I smiled, "You have. More than you think."

The End

*A/N: The comment thing isn't really an issue for me... now. But I did recently hear as to why some people aren't commenting as much and it makes total sense to me in this context. Sorry if/that I've been complaining about commenting and isolating anyone.

A/N: This was a little vulnerable of me. I'm sorry if it's a little lame. Just wanted to give a proper end to this series and voice out some of my weaknesses. Why? I don't know. But I feel a lot better because of it. So... thank you for indulging me in this.