I know, I know, it’s been forever since I’ve written. I see other blogs where people write as little as one paragraph or even just a photo caption and call that an entry. I guess I don’t have to wait for some mega-inspiration to write about what’s going on in my life, but I feel like if you’re going to take time out of your day to read my words, then I should make them worthwhile and put a lot of work into them. The thing is: I’ve never struggled to write before. At the height of my heyday, when I published a book of poetry when I was 18, I wouldn’t even need to have a particular goal or topic in mind. Poems came through my pen organically, with almost no conscious effort, and as they came is how they were meant to be. I never went back and edited for subject, only occasionally for punctuation. I never worked at my craft, it just was. I just crafted.
Several personal struggles lead to the burnout of my writing “career.” I won’t get in to too much detail, but there were deaths, drugs, and depression involved, and for the better part of seven years I’ve been almost physically incapable of creative writing. I lost a very important outlet, something that during previous difficulties had helped me cope. I had a poetry mentor once, who told me the key is to write every single day, no matter what. Force yourself, even if it’s just for five minutes or just a few sentences, to put your pen to paper. I understood her advice, but it went against my process. I didn’t have to try; when the words wanted to come, they came. But then they stopped.
In a way this ties back to one of my original posts about figuring out the direction of this blog. I don’t know how often or for how long you may want to hear about my life’s ups and downs. For you, should I just focus on happy times and lighthearted life happenings? Or are you interested in what it’s like in my head? Are you sure?