*This was written many Thursdays ago at about the same time as this is published today. It resonated so much with the me sitting at this computer.
I have no idea where this post is heading all I know is
1. I feel uninspired.
2. I am adamant at changing 1.
3. I have an urge to write.
First off a mental picture of my surrounding.
The house is dead silent except for the hum of the refrigerator and passing cars. I feel like an alien looking in on everyone sleeping.
Okay not in a creepy sense.
I am awake because I have to be at the airport in 4 hours, the sister is leaving for winter break and I am so jealous that I can’t tag along, but I shall be a good sport about it and send her off. I think though the honest reason is that I love this time, when everyone is deep in their slumber and I am left alone with my thoughts.
Now on with the thought process shall we….
I think it isn’t reason enough to say you have nothing to write about and so you don’t write — or is this my fear of the possibility that you might end up forgetting how to write! I have a draft box filled with ideas that just all seem half-baked. When did I loose my voracious ability to scribble down “read-worthy” words? — although some still do like my writing so I guess I still have some of that juice!
I have pondered over this for weeks now, with creeping fear, dreading the dwindling loss of my talent. When part of your happiness is intricately lined in a hobby/craft, do you just give it up or fight to keep it. I think the answer is obvious.
So of course the first step was I had to be logical and think back as to what has changed? what is different?, to warrant such a predicament. This is my hypothesis.
I have succumbed to wanting/predicting the approval of my readers even before I write my posts, thereby structuring everything to what I perceived might appeal more to them. Now this isn’t necessarily a bad thing, but there’s a thin line between making my writing art form into some sort of display waiting to be critiqued and wanting to be liked — making me to conform to what “mass produced” ideology society was on — when instead what I should be doing was just letting it be an Art form in it’s purest form, basking in all it’s glory.
Isn’t that what art should be?, your ideas presented without any preconceptions as to whether it will be liked or not but still being okay with that?! Just the knowing that you have produced something worthy even if it’s just a few people who think so? Well I believe therein lies the true meaning of an Artist and their work. I kinda lost a bit of that somewhere.
There has also been the issue of distractions all around me, which has prevented me from actually sitting down and wallowing in my thoughts. Missing out on creating ideas and actually taking time to lose myself in them. All I have been doing is using single sentence “eureka” moments and trying to create a masterpiece out of it without actually allowing it to develop naturally. Like they say “Nothing forced can ever be beautiful”!
With this one, I am not sure how accurate it might be, but I have this notion that as a writer, you should read as many books as you possibly can. There is so much inspiration and learning to be gotten from books that it’d be a crime to pass up on. And the possibility of living through the world of the characters, well of course is a full shot of awesome sauce — I have a millennial monster inside of me.
Well I lived by that logic for the longest time.
I read books with such ardour making it bewildering that I ever stopped. I have maybe read about 10 books this year that aren’t related to school! If you had told the 16 year old me this, she would have thought you ridiculous. But alas that is the fact.
“I write because I am.”
Just thinking if a day will ever come when I can boldly utter such words. Although I do not fully grasp it’s connotations, I think it is simply awesome. I do however believe that becoming a good writer — maybe great — is within the realm of possibility for me. Time will tell.
Now this might be another night owl’s version of midnight ramblings or an actual breakthrough to my dilemma — which now that I think about it, might have been prompted by my sister’s theory of knowledge essay about instinct, reasoning and intuition etc. I forget the full title.
I shall await the rising sun to decide if my spell of uninspired – [ness] has worn off.
For now I have this unencumbered glimmer of hope.
Have a lovely Thursday, and thank you for walking through this — whatever it was — with me.
Comments and suggestions would be greatly appreciated. Especially if you find you can relate to this, I would love to hear what your thoughts are.
2:56 am. Fin.