I noticed something wasn’t right with my writing some two years ago. My imagination had been producing things I approved for a long time then, but suddenly I noticed I was struggling to create measly bundles of paragraphs over subjects well familiar to me – well enough to generate pages over, and that frightened me. The reservoir of spare words quickly dwindled out in the course of months and I utterly freaked out over it. I’ve had a vision of getting my life into shape, but I started avoiding things a bit — avoiding people, even, and took to writing incidental snippets of questionable worth on Facebook, instead.
I want to crush my writer’s block. I want it to perish. But what to do about it? That’s a bloody good question. My spouse suggested something she had heard, before. On some days I’ve thought my new relationship has made me too content to write things, but that must be one of those broken thoughts I’m prone to dream up in a pinch. Anyway, what she suggested was that I should write something for at least ten minutes a day, every day – no matter what sort of text, and screw the grammar.
This would be my first such ten-minute entry of text, and already it’s proving to be longer than most of the things I’ve written in months. That’s rather pathetic for the months in comparison to this random piece, but there you have it. Writer’s block is a horrible thing, let me tell you. So let us break it.
Before my letters and words suddenly became sentenced and resigned to a numb quietus, I did some pretty good textual work. I’m reading them now and I fear I’m not going to get as good at it as I believe I used to think I could get. Well, I’m going to see if I can consistently keep up producing short bodies of text for a while. Maybe I’ll get it grappled. Maybe not. It’s not like this is a decision that can result in net loss of anything, is it. Heh.
So let’s see what we can see! (For some reason, that’s one of my favourite phrases. I’ve pretty much picked it up from an old favourite movie of mine.)