I'm not writing much these days. And I hate that.
This morning, the urge to write hit me hard. For over a year now I'd made writing a priority. It was the reason I got up at 4:30 in the morning five days a week. It was the thing I had to do every day before going to bed. It was an addiction. An addiction that I liked and was proud of.
Now? Now, I've fallen off the wagon of writing every day. Now, I've replaced writing with "homework" and the joy of writing languishes in the back of my head, waiting for that glorious moment when all the right words -and only the right words- make their way into the forefront of my head and out the tips of my fingers to grace the blank page in front of me.
And I hate that.
I hate it that writing has become more work and less of art. I hate it that life events -happy or sad- have interrupted my morning ritual. I hate it that I'm spending more time not finding the time to write than I am anything else.
Reading (for school) has taken the place of my writing time. And while I love reading (though this last book was not as enjoyable as I had thought it would be) I don't want it to replace writing. In my writing world, reading has become what the scale always becomes when I'm trying to eat healthy. -A compulsive need that gets in the way of eating right.
Similar to logging all those blasted calories -gone is the point of taking care of myself and being healthy as it's replaced with many times a day stepping on the scale and scouring my smartphone for the correct calorie count of whatever it was that I'd eaten.
Instead of enjoying all of the words (even the lousy ones) that spew out of my brain and my heart onto the page, I'm too busy focusing on word count or getting just the right word down or reading so that I can learn more about the craft.
But what's the point of learning more about the craft if I'm not going to apply what I've learned? Isn't that the importance of learning?
It's something I need to work on. I'd been writing daily for weeks. I'd been working on overcoming the nonsense that goes on in life that was stealing a week of writing every month. I had come so far! And now, here I am, back at square one again. I'm not even keeping a notebook by the side of my bed anymore! -I know, shocking, isn't it?
So, I'll resolve to be more aware, to be more focused. And to find a way to balance all the aspects of school with my love of writing. I hate to think I'd come this far and be at the point in my life where I can actually study writing only to not write anymore. That would be ironic, wouldn't it?
I'm going to do what everyone does when they reach this stage of change. Or at least what I think will help me to make a significant change (again). I'll seek out a writing buddy to help hold me accountable. I'll resolve to write a thousand words a day -even if it's only journal writing. Because...well...journal writing is good for the soul and because it could end up being the start of something literary. I'll work on my novel -not just talk about working on it. I'll use writing prompts. I'll carry my notebook and look for something -anything- in my ordinary day that might help me dig deep enough to find the words that beg to be written.
Here's to Tuesday. To finished novels. To an MFA. To fresh starts. To a new resolve. Here's to writing.