It’s not easy to write. Don’t get me wrong…
But it is easy to sit in the chair, sip coffee, and type some dribble into a word document.
I think I’ve been in this desk chair for the majority of the last two years. Sure, my writing has improved and I’ve gotten a lot done…but I’ve also missed out on a lot. And I’m just now realizing this.
Some of the things, I’m glad I missed out on. Choosing writing was the right choice. Other things, I regret missing out on. Finding the balance between writing and life can be difficult. Both need effort.
Recently writing has become hard for me. I have hit more walls than I ever have. My routine has been off and my work has slowed.
BUT I still write everyday. And all those walls have forced me to approach writing a different way…
Now, I write on a whim. With no real schedule. Now it’s true, I haven’t gotten much work done. But the work I am getting done appears to be really good — for my standards anyway.
Let me go back to where I started hitting walls: Now I must state that I don’t believe in writer’s block — mainly because it has never been an issue for me.
I finished a first draft of a script in October. I usually always have another project to move onto next, but this time, I didn’t — that was my first wall. So I began to search out other alternatives for writing. I realized I was bored with writing screenplays, so I was open to anything — perhaps a novel. Or I was going to blog more. Writing short stories or opinion pieces…
None of which I did. Instead I began to journal everyday. And eventually through the journaling a new story started to appear. For the past two months I’ve been working on a new story. Notes here and there — pages are starting flow and I feel good about it. But my approach is way different than my previous 17 screenplays.
Not only do I think the writing is good. But this is the most personal story I’ve ever written, and I’m enjoying the writing to the fullest extent.
I have changed my tactics for one reason. I was bored.
Now with this new tactic, writing on a whim and writing a story that’s personal and meaningful…I have more time to live. More effort is put into my life outside this desk. I feel alive when I write and before I write.
The work shows that.
Writing less. Writing better. And living to write. Not writing to live.
There was no doubt; my writing was becoming numb writing. It was a job and I treated it like a job. My passion was fading. And my change of tactics couldn’t have come at a better time.
The pressure is limited. The pages are slim. My routine is seemly fucked, but suddenly the passion for writing is back.
Always be writing. Everyday.