And So…

It’s probably time to explain how I’ve managed to write six blog posts in as many days,  approximately doubling the amount I wrote in the entire year up to this point. As part of my post-Saturn Return plan to get my life back under my control, I’m writing again. The old hobby that I pretty much left behind the day I traded my college diploma for a real job is back. And I find it more difficult than I expected. Finding time to sit quietly and write amid the distractions of New York City is as challenging as, well, finding an appropriate simile for that. My brain is out of practice.

I signed up for the NaBloPoMo challenge to force myself to get into gear. So that when I have moments like the one I’m having now, where I’m perched on my couch and poised to turn on the TV and pick up the knitting needles because that is SO what I would rather be doing than writing, I write anyway. And I’m making it public, both to keep myself accountable and to overcome the paralyzing fear that sometimes stops me from writing in the first place: that I will suck. I hate to suck.

Writing is a skill I know I possess somewhere deep down that often gets lost in my fear of sucking. Why? Because good writing–good art–takes time, reflection, sketches, revisions… in other words, the antithesis of our instant tweet-it-now culture. To be so good at what you do as to make it look effortless is very very hard. For one month I’ve committed to rolling up my sleeves and getting to work–even if some of the work is ugly. My hope is that, at the end of this month, the whole will be greater than the sum of its parts.

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