New Nancy Smith post, “No One Can Take a Bath for You,” over at The Rumpus, under the “Why I Write” series. This has really made me think about how I look at my writing. I’m too often eager to prohibit myself from writing, too quick to stop writing or not even begin because I’m out of ideas, have no inspiration, or because I have a backlog of Breaking Bad episodes to catch up on. It is so damn easy to not write. So easy, like eating. I can come up with a billion reasons not to sit down and just really go to town on something old, something new, whatever. A new idea.
Too often I take those reasons and go with them and then complain that I’m not writing. I want to have drinks, I want to watch a movie, I want to do nothing. Too much of that nonsense. I don’t give myself enough reasons – enough incentive – to write. I feed the block with more and more bullshit reasons not to break out of the block. It’s easy.
Nancy’s post made me think, it made me say to myself, “hey, just write something regardless of whether you’re not feeling it or can’t come up with something viable to work from. It’s better than just not writing because you don’t have the inspiration.”
But, there it is. It’s always going to be the elephant in the room: writing. I allow myself not to do it because there’s a gratification – albeit one that ends up making me more angst-ridden in relation to it – in giving up on something that is hard.
It’s time to push through that, to really knock away at this block with a hammer, a big freakin’ sledgehammer…