Writing is definitely a craft. Like an athlete, a writer must practice in order for their talent to be honed. It has been over three months since I have written anything for publication and it is quite obvious that by allowing this craft to become stagnant, it has become laborious to revive. But here I sit in the dark with my computer, and I wonder if restoration is possible.
It isn't that I have nothing to communicate, it is that I can't seem to find that allusive “balance” I am constantly seeking. Everything I see, do or experience is fodder for a blog, but lately I can't seem to compose. The words are there, but the wherewithal to do the work is not.
I have always been an advocate that teacher's of writing must write themselves. It is important that we understand what our students are experiencing when they write. Perhaps her lies an epiphany—sometimes it is simply too difficult to write, or too arduous or perhaps inconsequential. I am really not sure which tag properly identifies my motives, but I feel compelled to come out of the fog.
The lack of motivation to write is like being separated from one you love—it is a feeling of abandonment and torpidity. Salvaging this union will no doubt take hard work and practice. I am unafraid of either, but both take an incredible amount of time and energy. It is time to step up to the plate, but why does it seem so difficult?
The problem is simple and I know it. I have become lazy. Sometimes, it is easier not to write at all than to expend the amount of energy it takes to compose well. Perhaps it doesn't matter if the writing is great or significant—perhaps sometimes it just matters that you DO IT! Quite a lesson for writers, no matter what their age.