The honeymoon is over. What I once took delight in, I dread. What used to be inspired is increasingly contrived and my best thoughts come to me at the worst times. With me and writing, I feel the relationship is truly analogous to the first moment you consider not being with someone who until that point hung the moon. It's not easy anymore. I have no flow. Using the word flow makes me feel like a rapper.
I have more posts in draft than I have ever had. I normally sit down at the computer bursting with words to type and just let it loose. Now nothing seems to be at the end of the threads I pull, now feels like writing is work and not just a natural expression of my thoughts and feelings. Now I feel that I may actually have to try. I might have to approach writing with some measure of discipline and effort. I'm not qualified to compare this development in my writing life to a relationship due to my dearth of experience, but based on my studies of Lifetime movies and sitcoms, I think the analogy works. I took words for granted because they were there always. No matter how I was feeling, the words just knew how to tell the story, how to bring a sense of resolution to whatever I was trying to say. I realize that words don't actually have to be failing me for me to feel that they are. Like all relationships, my feelings about my partner may or may not be supported by reality. But in this lull, imagined or real, I am thinking of how to supplement the waning abandon and passion for something more sustainable, something I can grow old with.
And that concludes the writing-as-a-relationship analogy.
I will end this post with a note to my dog who may or may not puke on the carpet tonight. As I was typing this, she started making dry heave noises that may or may not be associated with the mystery food she reclaimed from the sidewalk this evening; if you do get sick tonight, please, please, PLEASE do not get sick on the new rug. There are 4 other rugs closer to you, please don't get out of bed, walk over two other rugs and around the couch to vomit on the new rug. Please.
And if that dry heave thing was a ploy to get my attention for some belly rubbing and neck massages, nicely done. Moms like to feel like their touch is healing and having your dry heaves subside, and body relax as I loved on you is good for the maternal part of my ego. I feel good, you feel good...I have mis-underestimated your cunning. You are a Jedi.
6 comments:
Don't be discouraged. I still love your writing and hope to be able to write in a style that is as entertaining and yet unique as your own, but in my way. I love your open letters and think they are hilarious and strangely insightful. Don't worry about the flow, it will come and go as such flows do. Just keep up your end of the bargain, which is to just write, it will work out. I know exactly how you are feeling though. I started my own blog with that everything seems to come out so easy feeling. Then yesterday I re-wrote a whole paper three times because I just couldn't get the feel for writing it. It happens, I just hope you continue to keep me entertained for a while longer.
What the hell are you talking about Ava? This is some of your best shit yet! I mean, that. There's a certain type of person who feels if they're not constantly improving that they're getting worse. But that's not true and in the end you wont have any staying power (in any endeavor) if you take that attitude. As David Wallace once said, 'Success isn't just a matter of talent--its a matter of temperament."
And by the way, as I've told...well, everyone of my old girlfriends at one point or another. There's nothing wrong w/ taking a little time away.
Lodo, Lodo, Lodo,
You do my heart good. Good stuff, my friend. I'm sending you virtual hugs.
MP: thanks so much for reading and for the feedback. I'm glad to keep you entertained for as long as you'll have me! :-)
Please don't compare your relationship with writing to a Lifetime movie--I think your readers have better taste than that ;)
Tamara; ha! Lifetime movies are a trip. My father worries my mother watches too many of them because he claims a man ends up getting killed by his wife in every movie and often gets away with it.
I love this post ... and the dialogue between you and your readers in the comments. I'm always amazed, inspired and a little bit jealous of people who can really write. (That's why my blog is always VERY light on words - heavy on pictures. he hee.)
Sweet Baloo. (is that how you spell it?) I'm sure his mommy takes very good care of him. :)
(dammit... THIS mommy is being interrupted by kids wanting food... Damn sustenance.)
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