On Writer’s Block

I came here today to delete my last post.  The one from January 29th that’s right below this one.  The one that slowly trudges toward zero and that surprised all of us by actually grinding to a halt at -5.

The reason I was going to delete this post is because a couple nights ago my Mum and I were chatting and she told me that it was the worst post of mine she’d ever read.

Before you get all righteously indignant on my behalf (thanks, me too), both my Mum and I tend to say things a little more forcefully than we mean to.  Because of this I took what she said with a grain of salt, but, much like salt, her words still stung a little.  I thought about it for a little bit and then I tried really hard not to think about it and then I thought about it some more because HOW COULD I NOT. Even when you know that the thing you made wasn’t a masterpiece, you still don’t want to think that it’s bad, much less something that someone called “the worst”.

Long story short, it got to me.

I decided to delete it.

But I must be a bit of a masochist, because I decided to read it first, fully expecting to be embarrassed and to feel awkward and to feel absolutely nothing but a sweet sense of relief upon hitting that delete button.

I didn’t, though.

And the post is still up.

The post is staying up.

Turns out, I like it.

I didn’t write it to be read, and I only posted it after it was complete and I realized that if I didn’t post it I would have failed to accomplish one of my goals for the day.  There is a certain beauty in things that aren’t created for an audience.

Was it flowery in parts?  Yeah?  Was it collar-tuggingly confessional in others?  Maybe a little.

But it worked and I liked reading it.  It was a pretty honest expression of what it feels like to have one thing that you really want to be doing and another thing that keeps getting in the way of the thing you love.  It was, simply, an expression of writer’s block, and it was not illiterate.

One of the goals that I have set for myself is to write 500 words a day, which is a struggle sometimes.  I didn’t do it yesterday.  I took a nap and watched a movie instead.  (Speaking of which, watch Virunga).  I didn’t do it the day before because I was taking a bath.  I didn’t do it the day before that, either, because I was busy for other reasons.  It was probably just as stupid of a reason, honestly.

Clearly the habit hasn’t stuck yet.

But every once in a while I get frustrated and I actually follow through with the goal and my words appear on paper or on a screen and even if I’m the only one who likes them, I think I’ll let them live.