Research; oh how I have come to loath thee.

Research in general isn't anything bad. I've come to accept that as a writer, research becomes a necessity. There are topics that you don't have enough experience in to write about, locations you want to put your characters in that you've never visited, and if you really want to do your work justice, you have to buckle down and dig up information on those things.

But ever since a very horrible class where I had to write a research paper for my final grade, I've pretty much looked at research as poison. I much rather clean my room, which has been in a growing disarray since I returned from university, in the middle of the night, than sit down to learn about the cost of living in a big city or the workings of a magazine company. The feeling that I associated with research is one of excruciating discomfort and boredom.

What I find, however, is that one feeling has pushed me to stop avoiding this critical thing: a fear of absolute stagnation. What I fear most is that one day, I'll look up and see that years have past me by, and the story idea I have been sitting on will be bland and unappealing to me, and I won't have the motivation to continue it. Even worse, that I would believe that I have never had a good idea, or even the ability to weave that idea into a beautiful piece of literature. Delaying this is only going to hurt me in the end, so I've decided upon progress.

With that being said, I've actually been having quite a bit of fun with research. In reality, research isn't horrible when you're looking up things that actually interest you, and even though I'm starting off with the boring building block stuff right now, I've found a major interest and excitement from the work I've done so far. All I can do now is continue on strong, and keep honing my craft.

The End

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