A Rant on Writing

For this post, I’m going to go back to my old style of writing. And by “old style of writing”, I mean “ranting”.

If you haven’t had the opportunity to read any of my old blog posts, I encourage you to do so. I’ve written a lot of rants in the past- rants about how the guys on American Pickers get on my nerves and probably spoon in armoires on commercial breaks and about how my kids selective hearing drives me nuts and how I wonder if mental institutions take walk ins. (Check out this perfect example of my ranting: My Nerves and What’s On Them.)

See, I used to write a lot of rants. People seemed to enjoy my rants, and writing them also made me feel better. And then I wondered if I ranted too often, and I realized that I did, so I quit ranting so much and instead focused all of my time and energy on making a name for myself in the “real” writing world and freelance writing and building a brand and attempting to publish my damn book (which has yet to be (#**((*#**#)* published!)

But I miss writing rants. I think I was much healthier, mentally, when I ranted on my blog two or three times a week. I know I was.

But I’m too busy writing to rant anymore. Does that make sense? No? Well, stick around and let me school you.

See, writing has become my business. I hate to complain about that. I really do. I’ve always wanted to be paid for my words, and now I am. It’s literally a dream come true. I’m not complaining. I’m really not.

Well, I am, but I hate myself for it.

But all of this writing for money isn’t fun for me. My favorite kind of writing is freestyle. Rants. Blog posts that have no rhyme or reason. That kind of writing comes easy to me. This kind of writing comes easy to me. I thoroughly enjoy sitting down at my computer and typing the asinine things that live in my head. The shitty thing is that I don’t get paid to do that.

Freelance writing is taking up all of my time and it is sucking me dry. It’s sucking the creativity right out of me. It’s like I’m hooked up to a Shop Vac. Or leeches. Or the anemic guy on Twilight. I’m being sucked dry. SUCKED.

You’d think all of this writing would help hone my craft, and maybe it is, maybe it is making me a better writer, but it just isn’t enjoyable. It’s too much like a job and less like a stress-reliever. It’s hard, yo. I don’t like hard. I once quit a job on an assembly line while I was in college because my supervisor asked me to physically move some pallets. I quit the next day. Because it was hard. And because I got a hemorrhoid.

I know hard work pays off. I know nothing good comes easy. I know book deals don’t come to those who solely rant on a blog. I know hard work is necessary. I have worked hard in my life. I didn’t stick around to move pallets for a guy with pit stains, but I’ve clocked in at 7 am and out at 7pm. I’ve raised children. I’ve housebroken puppies. All of that shit was hard, but I did it.

But my passion- writing- shouldn’t be hard. It’s the one thing in my life that shouldn’t be hard. It should be enjoyable for me, the way it once was.

Say I’m given an assignment on rocking chairs. “Susannah, we need you to write 750 words on rocking chairs. Make it humorous. There’s 50 bones in it for you.”

It’s hard to write 750 humorous words about a damn rocking chair.

“Rocking chairs are chairs that rock. I don’t know what else to say. My editor will hate this, and now I’m nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of aforementioned rocking chairs.”

Gosh, it sucks. Writing about shit I don’t want to write about sucks.

But I do it. I write 750 words of bullshit about rocking chairs, I collect my 50 bucks and I spend it on essential oils that promise to take away my anxiety about writing 750 words of bullshit every day.

I thought about giving it all up today. I thought, several times, “I’m done writing. I don’t want to do it anymore. It’s not fun anymore. It’s hard. This shit is hard. I don’t care if my book ever gets published. It’s too hard. I can’t compete with these other writers. I’ll never make it on the New York Bestsellers’ List, and I really don’t care anymore, because it’s too hard. I’m done. I don’t want anymore deadlines. I don’t want to write 750 damn words about mosquito bites or organic corn flakes or other bullshit. I don’t want to obsess about articles and page views and going viral. I don’t want to write anymore. I’m done. I’m done. I’m done. That’s it, I’m really seriously done.”

And I threw my laptop in a drawer and left my house. I drove to an appointment and went to the grocery store and listened to my radio as loud as I wanted, even songs with explicit lyrics because my kids weren’t in the car, and I felt free. I was done writing. A weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

And then I started thinking about deadlines again and how I need to write an article about the dangers of aluminum in deodorant.

But I quickly shunned the thought. “No, Susannah. You are done writing and you are done with all of the bullshit that comes along with it. You don’t love it anymore. It’s been driven right out of you. Being forced to write has driven out of you the desire to write at all!”

But I came home and wrote this.


Because it was something I wanted to write. I want to write what I want to write.

I want to rant.

I don’t want to write about mother-effing rocking chairs anymore.

I don’t care about self-promotion. I don’t care about getting my name out there. I don’t care about being featured on the front page. I don’t care about branding myself. I don’t care about it anymore. I can’t care about it anymore.

I just want to write. I want to rant.

And that, my friends, is what I’ve just done.


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About Susannah

I'm a freelance writer, blogger, aspiring best-selling author, wife of one and stay-at-home mother of two. I was chosen for the Top 13 in Blogger Idol and contribute pieces to The Huffington Post and Hahas for Hoohas. My work has also been featured in several humorous e-books, "Southern Writers’ Magazine", "The Humor Daily", "The Funny Times" and on the Erma Bombeck website. When I'm not putting pen to paper, bandaging boo-boos or spraying Shout on unidentifiable stains, I enjoy reading, playing the piano and teaching my children all about Southern charm. God has blessed me beyond measure and to Him be the glory forever.

11 thoughts on “A Rant on Writing

  • TheMomCafe.com

    Oh here she IS!!! The girl I fell in love with long ago, but stayed in love with for your heart and really? Every word you write is beautiful and hilarious and brilliant in my opinion. But THIS is your passion, right here. And I for one take to it, like a cow in heat!! (I just ate a bag of potato chips, hence this cow deal) (I don’t even know what that looks like actually, so yeah.)

    You rant and do your thang like you do… and be FREE!!!

    And I just KNOW that your book deal with come. I know it. Feel it in my cow bones. 🙂

    • Susannah Post author

      Ahhhhh. This comment. Refreshing. Validating. Freeing. Making me crave chips. Making me realize just how much I value you. You get me. I get you. It’s a beautiful thing, that. Thank you.

  • Ala

    You could write a 500 page book ranting like this and I would buy it in a heartbeat. You don’t need to write a whole article on some nonsense for me to tune in. I actually never read your articles on Huffington Post because I know its not you. I come here for you.

  • Ala

    Sorry Im mistaken, I have read all your Huffington post articles. However I wouldnt read an article you write on rocking chairs… actually i think i still would, but I enjoy reading these posts so much more. You made my night.

  • Tamara (Part-Time Working Mom

    Wonderful! NIce rant. Made me laugh even. I say, write rant posts!
    What is your book about?

    If you want to get rid of rocking chair and mosquito bite assignments, send them my way, I’ll be happy to produce 750 words of BS 😉

  • Hillary

    I do love a good rant. I haven’t written one in far too long. Good job! But you are making me rethink this whole paid-for-my-words dream I hold dear….

  • Roseann

    AMEN. You do best what you love and if you don’t love it it won’t be what you do best and it won’t be you. Get it? If not, just say it three times fast, that’ll work too. I Love what you post!

  • bethkeehne

    Rants are good for the soul – so when you release a good rant from time to time, it only makes sense that the stuff you want to write about will flow, am I right? So Rant on and on and on…and then the good stuff will be there as well, and any of us out here that are mothers, daughters, sisters, wives, etc….will truly get your rants and be nodding our heads in agreement – can I get an AMEN?! 🙂

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