October 29, 2011

What I’m (not) Writing.

I was asked the other day what I was writing. Of course, I haven’t written anything in awhile: work and moving and all that kind of sapped up all my time! I haven’t had time to do much of anything fun or constructive recently (though today’s day off helped that a bit, I suppose). I mean, I should be writing though, right? I’m someone who does that. Who makes poetry and whatnot. I should be producing creative material, right?

Anyway, after I explained this, I was told that “maybe you should cut back on the blog so I have more time to write serious-type stuff.” (That’s not actually a direct quote, but I put it in quotation marks anyway. That’s how I roll tonight.) It made me think.

The problem with giving up the blog is that the blog is a major source of “everything is okay” in my life right now. The fact that, no matter how stupid, I put a blog up there every single day means something to me, personally. This several years long at this point experiment with daily blogging has yet to fail. It says I can create a project, and actually stick with it for a meaningful length of time. The days I nearly go to bed without writing a blog are days where I remember, and am struck with fear that I might miss a day. I actually went to bed without writing earlier this year, and woke up at 4 am, raced to the PC, and wrote something so I could get back to sleep.
There’s also just this general sense of “someone might see this” that really motivates me to keep writing these stupid blogs. I don’t really think many people care about what I write here, but there are a few, and the fact that this is there, and my internet whatever, means I don’t want to fail. It makes that deadline real.

I rarely have deadlines for creative work. When I do, I do awesome things (See: book of poemtry I wrote) and whatnot. If I found a way to get myself writing on a deadline, I could probably do more creative work every week. But I’ll be honest: I don’t know how the fuck I made the deadline on this blog a day thing real. I don’t really understand how it went from something I just kind of wanted to do to a requirement that invokes the responses that occurred up top. Somehow I made that happen. Making that happen with creative work would be nice, certainly. Eventually I’d start cranking out something great, at least from time to time. I need to come up with a plan. I really do. I’d write creative shit and post it on here more often, like a poem every week or something, but I am told you are not supposed to do that, because then it is “published,” and then I can’t actually do anything with it. Which is frustrating, but so it goes. I don’t know. I haven’t decided what to do.

So what am I writing right now? I guess nothing. I have that short story that was supposed to be porn but now I think I can turn into something much better that I have a bad draft of. I have my next book of poetry vaguely outlined in my head, with characters. I’ve done one or two test poems on here from time to time. I really do want to do that. Alternatively, I’ve been thinking about it, and maybe that story is better told in a novel. I also still have my last novel attempt half-written, Every Other Day, I Love You, and I really do still like that story and would like to redo the whole thing and make it better. I want to write a sequel to a porn story I wrote. I need to do a lot of writing for my Festivus gift sometime in the next month. But what am I actively working on? Not a lot.

I should fix that. Is stopping this blog a way to do that? I’m not sure. I don’t think I’m going to, in any case. I love you blog. Never leave me.

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