Thirty Things I Love: Writing

Strangely, I've been staring at this blog editor for about 15 minutes, now, trying to decide what to write, because when you write about writing it'd better be good. I'm actually in a writing slump these days, seeing as how I'm not as depressed or angry or quite the control freak as I was merely months ago. Writing was one of the ways in which I worked out all The Crazy in my head, and I found it very therapeutic.

Did I just communicate that in the past tense? My bad.

Here is a picture of me at the wine bar katty-corner from my house. Yes, that's right, a wine bar within rock throwing distance of my front door - I live the good life. I spend every Wednesday afternoon here while my children watch movies and eat junk food with a teenager. I used to use this weekly time to run errands without my kids, until one very bad day over a year ago when I just needed to chill. I brought my laptop, and bought some wine, and the rest is... you know.

When I was a kid I used to write uber-dramatic stories in lined spiral notebooks or cloth covered journals. Stories like the one about a girl who was abandoned by her parents and chased by evil men, only to be found hovering behind a stack of shipping crates by John Taylor of Duran Duran who later adopted her and took her on tour with him.

They were works of genius, all of them.

When I outgrew the uber-drama, I gave up writing. I knew I had stories in me, but I didn't know how to tell them. Late in 2004 I read Anne Lamott's Traveling Mercies for a book club. The essay style, the wit, the humor, the non linear assembly of thought - it totally sucked me into a place of confidence, and suddenly I knew I could do it, I knew I could write.

Blogging has been the main way I've practiced my craft - my style, my voice, my comedic timing. My admin page says I've written 697 posts. To me that is 697 "shitty first drafts," as Anne calls them, which can later be crafted into publishable essays.

I feel that lately I've been transitioning into the hard work of writing. Meaning that I was previously writing out of the angst and confusion built up in me. I've known nothing else but writing from emotion, but now that life is balancing out, I find that the words do not come as easily.

I've challenged myself by contributing to other blogs in which I submit to assigned topics and deadlines; I've chosen a theme for NaBloPoMo as a writing exercise; I've subscribed to other writing blogs, begun networking with other writers, and have found a writing partner to encourage and be encouraged by.

I feel motivated, driven, and divinely patient. I can't imagine not writing. Even if I never get published, I assume I will always write because I enjoy writing.