So I've really been struggling with my writing lately. And let's get it out of the way upfront: I don't believe in the myth of "writer's block."

While my comrades are busting their butts hacking out hard news on a daily cycle in the downtown Chicago newsroom, I'm in the relative calm and sleepiness of Evanston, attempting to hone my magazine writing skills. Problem is, I don't have any magazine wrting skills to begin with.

I didn't come into this program with a dark veil of arrogance -- or even confidence for that matter, but I never thought I'd struggle like this. Magazine journalism's long form has been an extreme stuggle for me. Wait, I guess that it's not even the long form that's so frustrating; it's finding the magazine voice.

An avid newspaper and magazine reader in the past, I never realized how different the two forms of writing acutally were. Instead of churning out 700-word daily news stories, like "the markets skyrocketed on positive earnings reports today" or "the troubled hotel on the edge of campus is poised for a renovation," I'm trying to piece together 3,500 word profiles on complicated individuals who have struggled longer with their lives than years I've lived.

To me, daily news writing had always come rather easy. It was like putting together one of those kiddy puzzles with only 8-10 big pieces to create a complete picture. I'd talk with a handful of people, do some light reporting and churn out a coherent, valid news story.

Magazine writing, on the other hand, is a far more daunting task. It's like buying a 1000-piece puzzle, and struggling over the course of a couple of weeks to get a few clumps of pieces put together. And, once you get a few chunks of the puzzle assembled, you have to find a way to make them all fit together to form the picture on the box. If you're missing one tiny piece, the integrity of the puzzle is ruined. I've found the same with long-form journalism.

I've spent weeks trying to tell the story of a man who was in a CTA train crash, and subsequently found out he had cancer. If not for the train accident, this man would have never visited the hospital. Sounds simple enough, right? If I can explain it in two or three sentences, it should be easy to nail down 3,500 words on it, with all of the description he's given me. But, the art of an impactful (to use a non-word) piece is hard to master. Each sentence must be thoroughly scruitized for its impact to the meaning of the story. It's actually a lot like a good piece of fiction.

You have to pull the reader through the story using a common through-line, while attempting to construct a clear emotional arch in the story to keep a reader interested. So far, I have the 1000 pieces of the story put together in a few big chunks. Now, it's a matter of constructing it in a way in which it makes sense -- and be somewhat entertaining. It's far different than anything I've ever done, and it's hard.

I keep moving the pieces around in front of me. Where should I start? Where should I end? How should I transition? What's important, what can be left out? So far, while they stand well alone, the clumps I've assembled look like they've all come from a different puzzle.

But, the good thing is, I've got a great story in my hands. It's just a matter of me translating it into entertaining, relevant, well-structured prose.

It is only now that I've begun to understand the pain that all good writers have experienced throughout thier lives. Steinbeck, Capote, Thompson, Didion, Hemmingway -- they lived their lives in constant pain and frustration. And even though they lived good lives based on accepted convention and standard, they pained over their writing -- severely.

Now, I get it. Writing IS PAIN.

Call me a masochist, but I love it. I just hope I'm getting better.