I know it has been a ridiculous amount of time since my last post. I’m sorry about that.
One of the most important actions a writer must fulfill [complete, hold themselves accountable to] is writing daily. Regardless of my motivation or whether or not I have anything to write about, I must write SOMETHING on a daily basis.
When I feel [under] pressure, or backed into a corner, or find myself called/prompted/asked to do something I do NOT feel comfortable doing, I procrastinate.
I have been home-based [read: unemployed] since Sept. 1st, 2017, so “lack of time” is no longer a viable reason/excuse for procrastinating to write. Instead, I have placed more power in the other subjects falling under procrastination. Well, in all honesty, the power trickled into the “other subjects” and I allowed it to happen.
Shortly before I journeyed from one coast to the other this past September (2017), I began the #writingdaily tag on my site. It served as a window to the aching creative side of my heart and mind. It allowed a refreshing breeze into my spirit–the reason I still call myself “a writer” even though it has been far too long since I worked on a manuscript – or even an idea.
It may have been because I binged too much Supernatural and Grimm, but who can say?
But then, upon my arrival in this new home, I no longer pushed myself to open my computer each day. I no longer got in my own face like some grim-faced DI until I opened my laptop and wrote another bit of something – ANYTHING – before calling it a day.
If someone were to ask my why, I could not possibly answer. It just serves to impress upon me even more how hard and important the daily writing struggle is to “creatives” in order to hold onto what we most value about ourselves.
Each day we do not create something is another day further from the confidence in our own ability to do just that.
We already serve as our own worst enemy, and if we surrender to the excuses/reasons to not write something – ANYTHING – each day, we only give more power to that enemy. We must not care how awful or how good the blip/morsel/vignette might be–just create it. The action of doing so should be our only focus.
At present I teeter between frustration and desperation regarding my desire, motivation, and confidence to do what I often feel I was born to do: write. There is always the chill of fear when I think of writing something, because I am terrified that it won’t pan out or, more specifically, that the tale or the writing itself will be stale and pathetic.
This is where I currently find myself, standing at the edge of a cliff (at least, that is what it feels like). Or, maybe I hesitate at the brink of a vast wilderness or desert, afraid of the journey and what I may or may not discover on the other side.
For the last couple years I haven’t known whether or not I even wanted to start writing again. Writing is hard work. Emotional. Disappointing at the same time it can be gratifying. Some days I wish I had the drive and confidence I did in my younger years, but that wish only sabotages my future.
We cannot move forward when we look backward.
Life and experience have changed me as a person, and now I need to experiment with what those changes might mean for me as a writer. No fear. No doubt. Just giving way to my natural intrigue and curiosity as to how a story or a character might play out.
Everything else can wait until “tomorrow”.