Mardougrrl, 1 and Silence, 0
(cool picture from here.)
I'm nervous.
Oh, I know there isn't really any reason to be. I'm sitting in my basement (yes, I bought a house! Probably more on that later...) with my laptop perched like a faithful Lab on my lap. I'm not running away from saber toothed tigers or battling conquering hordes or...
And yet.
I'm nervous to break up the pristine deadness of this blog.
Why?
Well, back when I used to write regularly and often, I tossed words here with abandon, careless...if they landed and took root, great...if not? They were so much fodder. And that worked for me, helped me hear my own thoughts when it seemed like my every inch of my life was straining to accommodate the Great Change, aka Motherhood.
This place helped save my mind.
But along the way, others occasionally wandered by, and sometimes they liked what they read, and said so.
Uh-oh. Suddenly, my blog was no longer this foolish hole in which to plant all the words that had no place in my new life. Suddenly, I felt like I had to be Good, all of the time. And well, no one is good ALL the time (I hope!)
My brain obliged this newfound fear by forgetting the entire English language. And if any words managed to evade this verbal apocalypse, well...that's OK, because I also, conveniently, forgot every single thing I have ever known about storytelling. It's narrative aphasia.
It's a damn shame.
Especially since I still long, more than anything, to be a writer.
I don't mean to, but I get very attached to my words, especially when I am proud of them. And I also start to think that, just maybe, I have used up my alloted words and need to be quiet now. I remember the stories I have written here through a haze of sepia nostalgia, convinced that I will never be able to write anything like them again. And maybe I won't. But maybe I can write something different. Maybe I can just keep writing something different. Maybe I can just keep writing.
In the spirit of “Kill your darlings” I toyed with the idea of crashing this whole blog down, erasing the whole thing.
But I'm really not ready to do that yet. This place represents a fertile period for my imagination, and I need it to remember that such a thing is really possible.
Instead, I'll endeavor to create more careless darlings here, and people will either read them (yes, please!) or not (boo! Come back!).
And I'll be doing Nanowrimo again too, because sometimes the very best thing to do is throw down words upon words, good, bad, indifferent.
I won't hope I can keep it up this time. I just will.
Oh, I know there isn't really any reason to be. I'm sitting in my basement (yes, I bought a house! Probably more on that later...) with my laptop perched like a faithful Lab on my lap. I'm not running away from saber toothed tigers or battling conquering hordes or...
And yet.
I'm nervous to break up the pristine deadness of this blog.
Why?
Well, back when I used to write regularly and often, I tossed words here with abandon, careless...if they landed and took root, great...if not? They were so much fodder. And that worked for me, helped me hear my own thoughts when it seemed like my every inch of my life was straining to accommodate the Great Change, aka Motherhood.
This place helped save my mind.
But along the way, others occasionally wandered by, and sometimes they liked what they read, and said so.
Uh-oh. Suddenly, my blog was no longer this foolish hole in which to plant all the words that had no place in my new life. Suddenly, I felt like I had to be Good, all of the time. And well, no one is good ALL the time (I hope!)
My brain obliged this newfound fear by forgetting the entire English language. And if any words managed to evade this verbal apocalypse, well...that's OK, because I also, conveniently, forgot every single thing I have ever known about storytelling. It's narrative aphasia.
It's a damn shame.
Especially since I still long, more than anything, to be a writer.
I don't mean to, but I get very attached to my words, especially when I am proud of them. And I also start to think that, just maybe, I have used up my alloted words and need to be quiet now. I remember the stories I have written here through a haze of sepia nostalgia, convinced that I will never be able to write anything like them again. And maybe I won't. But maybe I can write something different. Maybe I can just keep writing something different. Maybe I can just keep writing.
In the spirit of “Kill your darlings” I toyed with the idea of crashing this whole blog down, erasing the whole thing.
But I'm really not ready to do that yet. This place represents a fertile period for my imagination, and I need it to remember that such a thing is really possible.
Instead, I'll endeavor to create more careless darlings here, and people will either read them (yes, please!) or not (boo! Come back!).
And I'll be doing Nanowrimo again too, because sometimes the very best thing to do is throw down words upon words, good, bad, indifferent.
I won't hope I can keep it up this time. I just will.
Labels: navel gazing
posted by Anonymous at 11:27 PM
6 Comments:
Whatever you decide to write - it's wonderful to find your words here again.
It's good to hear your voice. And of course you don't have to be "good" all the time. Forget the judgment and just write! I've missed reading here and would be glad to read anything you feel like telling us.
I'm so glad you're back! You just don't know how I've missed you.
hello, you. it's always wonderful to hear your voice here. i've been (mostly) silent, too, and know that compulsion to want to just ERASE. i figure when the time feels right i'll post again. no matter how frequently or seldom you write here...i'm still reading. xo
Well hello! Welcome back. :)
Being a writer isn't easy, even though as writers we may feel that we're uncommonly good at it.
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