There was a time, about twenty years ago when I could not stop writing. I wrote before bed. I wrote after breakfast. I wrote in the bathroom during work. Sometimes I pulled my car off the road because I had a sudden inspiration that I had to jot down in a notebook I carried.
I still feel a buzz inside me to write but I have done something terrible to myself. I have beaten it down and stopped moving with purpose. Life gets in the way. Writing feels selfish. I avoid it more often than not because once I begin I know I will get lost in writing and not be able to stop. Responsibilities abound so I beat down those urges until they are quiet.
Finding the rhythm at an approved time and time allowance feels stilted. Many of you know you can’t force writing easily. Of course for many of us, it’s a necessity to set an approved writing time. Life calls. Others demand your time and your productivity.
What is writing then? A luxury? Would you say the same about exercise? I think writers need writing to be healthy. It’s like mental breathing. Choke it off and you feel half dead.
My goal this year was to write the 40 shorts. I have written a number of pieces, longer and shorter but I am behind to stay on course for the whole forty. My goal is to carve out writing time like I carve out exercise time, log it, commit to it. Whether that will be a set time or wherever I can in my day remains to be seen but I will track words like the miles I run.
Go with the rhythm your writing takes you and let it move you forward until you breath easier. Don’t be left standing by the side of the road.