I always balk at the cliche “I’ve been writing since I can remember” when writers are asked how long they’ve been writing. It’s almost as bad as naming writing as your calling; something you were born to do. I’m beginning to think that as much as it makes my face do this:
it’s actually a pretty accurate description of how I feel about writing.
So here are some thoughts about writing, all of which pretty much slapped me in the face over the last year or so.
I don’t care that people I know read my blog.
People I know in real life reading stuff felt like they were prodding my soul, and I wasn’t very happy about people being able to look me in the eye while digging into some pretty intimate prose. While I’m not ready to go out and advertise that I’m currently back on the case (although I did do exactly that in my management course), the fact that people I know may see what I write about is something I’ve come to accept and I should let them have a good stare.
I put too much pressure on myself to make blogging a business.
I DO want to blog as part of my career but this here ole’ blog is just somewhere for me to ramble about… rambling. One reader or 101 readers, I don’t care. This is a thinking place. This is the Green Room where the pre-magic happens. This is the soundcheck, the intimate group of people who hear the unplugged version before the big concert…
You get the idea.
The more I write, the more I write
Back in 2013 I wrote 4 first drafts and was blogging almost every day. It was both my finest hour and an emotional rollercoaster. The next two years were fairly fruitless in terms of anything creative and it felt like there was always something missing.
Oh, look, here it is.
Talking about things I’m passionate about makes me come alive.
Find anyone in the street and tap into something they adore and soon you’ll see them transform into a glittering ball of energy. I’ve found a few things I love talking about (not including myself!) so I know I need to focus energy on them and really get myself Out There.
I want to share.
I want to talk about the things that matter to me. I want to have a voice and an opinion. I want people to feel like they heard, saw, or read something important from me today. It doesn’t have to be something big, just a sentence that resonated, something that captured their imagination. I want to inspire and be inspired by all the really great talent out there.
I would be mortified if I never published anything.
There have been a few memes floating around Facebook recently shouting:
WOT WUD U REGRET IF U ONLY HAD A WEEK 2 LIVE?
I would regret never having Gone For It. I would regret never having the nerve to put anything out there, held back by “I don’t have time” and “But what if it’s shit.”
I’m a little bit sad when I look back over the past few years and my writing productivity has been pretty much zero.
I don’t know if this makes writing, blogging, and generally being a creative arty-farty type a calling. I do know it’s something I’ve been passionate about for a long time and have attempted in various guises, always losing my nerve at the last minute.
Maybe this calling is about to start shouting? *Groans*
Written for The Prompt