Nibbling

Gene Fowler (quoted by a good friend of mine recently) said this: "Writing is easy. All you do is stare at a blank sheet of paper until drops of blood form on your forehead."   Writing used not to be that for me.  Words used to flow easily, effortlessly, from my thoughts, through my fingers and onto the screen.  I used to read back what I'd written and think, 'Yes, yes, yes!  I like that.'  And then I'd shut my computer down and go to work.  I used to write for about an hour every morning, I made myself write damn near every day, so I stayed in the habit.  But also I treasured the escape that writing gave me, it was part of my 'me' time.  And then things happened, and life changed; I moved on and I stopped writing regularly.  Now I re-read what I wrote a year ago and I think, 'Fuck, I used to be able to write.  What the hell happened?'  And I still make myself write, but it's hard work.  And it's nowhere close to the calibre I used to be able to maintain.  Not just achieve, but maintain, if you'll forgive the difference.   


Part of the problem is that what I used to write about, what used to inspire me, to make me want to write, no longer does. When the muse deserts you, you either stop or you go and try and hunt it down.  The internet is full of sites that prompt creative writing, but I'm undecided as to exactly what I want to write about, and I'm not convinced that trying to write x number of words about topic y  is going to be helpful, which is where this blog comes in.  I don't have a burning desire for this to be a 'personal' blog per se; I'm not hugely comfortable with my life being forever engraved on the internet in minute detail for anyone to see, but I'm sure there will be some personal stuff here.  It's also possible that I'll write vignettes, I'd really like to; my 'ficlets' were the things I took the most pleasure in writing, and what I miss most.  Equally, there'll be things that don't fit into a specific category; articles I've read, that either make me whoop with joy or rage with fury, rants that I need to get off my chest, lines and verses from poems and the resonance they have, nonsense and gibberish that'll probably mean little to anyone but me.  But that's ok.  I'm not aiming for award-winning prose here.  My aim, my aspiration, is to get back to enjoying writing.  And to writing enjoyable prose.