As writers, we face a lot of problems – intense Google searches, embarrassing Google searches, hours-long Etsy searches (I promise, this DOES have to deal with writing)…
One problem is the dreaded (though actually supportive) question: “so, are you still writing?”
<sigh> Maybe it’s just a dreaded question for me lately, as I’ve fallen off the writing bandwagon.
The relationship between writers and writing reminds me of the ocean. The tide flows in and out when you just stay on the beach. But to get to the good stuff, you have to wade out into the water, arm yourself with a massive tank and go for a dive. I’ve spent a lot of my time on the beach of writing – creating when the tide was high and lamenting when it was low. When I was in grad school, regardless of the tide, I didn’t have time to write. And now, I feel like I can’t even see the ocean.
Maybe that’s why when friends ask me if I’m still writing, I wince a bit, even though I know that people are only being supportive. Sometimes, I give a silly response, but internally the answer is always the same.
I wish I were writing. I want to start to write again. And yet, when I try – I lose the battle against the blank page.
And so, that damn question – are you still writing – haunts me. I remember all of the good times I’ve had with writing – the cafe writing, late night writing, therapeutic writing, and writer’s groups. And I remember the times like these when my muse and motivation resembled more of a desert than a beach.
Is this the creative process – feasts and famines? Or is it the creative process of a undisciplined writer? I’m not sure.
I’ve promised myself to write something – even just a sentence, every day. Maybe this will lure it all back – the creativity, motivation, and muse. I know at the very least, I can’t hurt…