Off the Wagon

I haven't written in weeks. This is a problem. If I am ever to become the writer I hope to become, I must commit myself over and over again to the act of writing. For a while, I was moving like clockwork. Every day, I sat with my notebook and pen and wrote my brains out. Lately, I have been feeling completely uninspired with just a hint of self-loathing.

I sat and thought about my "work" for a large chunk of my day and I have decided that I really need to pull some submissions together within the next few weeks. I need to hold myself to my promises so that I can at least feel like a worthy human being.

My "work." That always amuses me. I feel like what I am creating is of little value. I am called to write, which is why I avoid writing. I want my writing to mean something. I want my words to hit the right people in the right places. At the same time, I feel like I don't know enough (although I might know more than the average citizen--again, might) to really make a difference with something as passive-aggressive as the written word. Especially considering that I am not even addressing issues in a direct manner, but in more of a roundabout way...simply hoping that some schmuck might in a million years pick up on it. If it ever gets published, that is.

In other words, "Sigh. I am a card carrying member of The Angst-Filled Writers' Club."

1 comment:

Overanalyzer: said...

totally know how you feel. i often wonder why, if i like writing so much, i don't spend more time devoted to it. i fear that i just like the idea of it, and that's a horrible thought!