The last post I wrote reflected on the loss of a woman and mentor dear to me. Now, nearly five months later, what has changed? I’ve been promoted at work. I’ve continued on with my improv classes. I’m preparing for a trip around the world that will take me away from the everyday for four months.
But am I committed to writing as I once was? Is writing something I want to do? Most days, yes. I attended Authors After Dark this year and being surrounded by writers and readers inspired me. I visit my writing friends and they inspire me. If I don’t write, I feel at loss with myself. The creative process has been a large part of my psyche and if I feel like I’m kept from creating, well… I turn into a bitch.
After five months, however, I feel like I’ve forgotten how to lose myself in the story and crank out those words. I’ll write small scraps here or there — ideas for future prologues or crisp dialogue I can’t shake from my head. I’ll research. I’ll daydream. I even finished a challenging section after chewing on it for months. But the writing habit is shaky. Like trying to exercise a muscle that’s had the spring and summer off.
Either I am procrastinating or too hard on myself. Most likely, both.
In the coming weeks, I plan to talk about creating my characters as well as my research endeavors (a few road trips and becoming friends with experts). I may not have had my ass in the chair, but I have been indirectly working. Hopefully in sharing with y’all, my writing habit will strengthen back up.