Writer's block is a weird thing. I never know if I'm experiencing it or if life is just pressing down too hard and nothing creative comes out. This summer has very much been a fallow period. I can offer excuses: some trying times in my life, my office laptop that I do most of my writing on being borked, etc. But those are just excuses, and in my eyes not justified.
Thing is, I can *feel* the stories just...around...the...corner. The vibe is there, the scent is strong, but I can't quite tease them out. When this happens I can get too far into my own head, over-thinking everything. Because I want it so damn bad. Yet I have expectations of myself; too often I start a piece and it reads like the same goddamned thing I've written before. I lose the joy. It is no longer fun to write.
I hate it when it's no longer fun to write. Hate it, hate it, hate it. I do my best to combat it but you know what? Sometimes it gets the better of me.
At this current time in my life, I rarely get to talk about writing, creativity or even just a rambling sprawling conversation about life, the universe and everything. Virtually all of my conversations are about everyday matters, be they work or home. I think this limits my perspective and makes it harder to climb out of the slumps. I don't know how much of an effect this actually has--my gut says I'm just making another excuse--but it is a weird kind of loneliness, sometimes. Folks with whom I might have these conversations are, for the most part, physically far away, and technology can't bridge all those gaps. It's a consequence of getting older too; we are all so consumed with our day-to-day grind.
I know I have things to say. I know I have to get out of my own way. And fuck, I need to just have a little confidence. I still tend to view everything I write as worthless. Not good enough. I keep telling myself that doesn't matter--it's the creation process, it's doing something meaningful, it's telling a tale you want to hear, it's trying to communicate to the world...and yet too often this lecture to myself doesn't take.
I don't know, man, I don't know. I need to keep plugging away and try to get out of this creative funk. Because there are few things more frightening than a blank screen with no words forthcoming.
