Charlotte Bronte knew she had to write. I also cannot help it. There is something within me that cannot stop writing or think about writing. Writing is on my brain, always. Words flow in my blood. I must write. I must share.
The other night I saw a post on Instagram that said something like this:
I know writers who write about writing but don’t actually write. You have to write to finish the book. The novel won’t finish itself.
I’m paraphrasing 150% here, but you get what I’m trying share. You have to write to finish the novel you’ve been working on for however long. Then when you are done writing and re-writing, then the work of getting published consumes you. Though I love writing about writing, I sit here shaking my head in agreement that I’m here writing about how I’m not writing, when I could be working on my book. What a vicious circle we end up playing with ourselves. The ego is a like an ex-boyfriend/girlfriend that just won’t go away. It takes practice to get to the page and one day the ex doesn’t show up and you’re in the zone, writing.
However, I think it’s important to support one another, take the time to share each other’s joys and sorrows of the writers life. I love reading and researching other writers antidotes about writing. We all need a little help and when we ask for assistance that creativity is really ready to work with us. It’s been waiting to work with us and it will jump in at any moment, here I am, let’s play!
So, let’s play.
Until next time, keep on typing. . . .