I am, never have been, and probably never will be “…in search of a reason not to work on the book just now”. I don’t need a reason; my avoidance of pen, paper and computer seems to come naturally. When the muse does favor me, I love writing my thoughts and stories. But sometimes the muse is on strike, or out on the golf course or wherever it is that the muse goes when she’s not on my shoulder to whisper in my ear.
Life often provides the circumstances for writing avoidance. There are things that have to be done, such as lawn mowing, home repairs and family events. Notice I didn’t mention WORK. Retirement should have taken care of that time sucker. Strangely, though, retirement hasn’t provided more time to write, it has merely formed a vacuum that was filled with a large whoosh when I volunteered for my church, library and historical society.
Another interference with writing is the very thing that should push it right along: peer pressure. This blog is written by five of us who have been together in a writing group for years. We always offer support, even if we have to suppress our naturally kind tendencies and mercilessly criticize each other’s work. Now, I can take criticism, but I guess that maybe my muse can’t and that’s why she doesn’t always show up for appointments. The idea that others depend on me to fill space on a regular basis is like a magnifying glass that focuses the sun’s rays on my imagination; it dries up and bursts into flames.
By the way, Scott Adams had some great observations about writer’s block in his Dilbert comic strip this past Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. See them at http://dilbert.com/. Also, don’t leave that site before you read Adams’ very interesting blog.
This is all I have for right now. In the end, the only thing I understand about why I don’t write more is that … I don’t write more.
Posted on August 13, 2015, in Uncategorized and tagged writer's block, writing. Bookmark the permalink. 3 Comments.
I was talking to your muse a while ago (we were emailing about technicalities of police procedure, actually), and she said she couldn’t understand why you didn’t like her stuff when all the rest of us did.
You mean I have to make an appointment with my muse? By any chance would your muse have my muse’s number?
I believe their numbers are . . . unpublished.