I spent over an hour last night working on an essay that I started a few weeks ago. I have my original notes, poured out onto yellow pieces of paper. Sunday I made some edits. Last night I sat down to work in earnest. I realized at some point that I have nothing to say. I looked at what I had written and thought, What a piece of boring pedestrian crap this is. Seriously. The wording was fine. Its not about the words. I can put words together. Parts were even clever. Theres just no life in it. No emotion. No feeling. No voice. Then it hit me. Thats my life right now. No emotion. No feeling. No voice. No wonder I dont write. I dont do anything. My entire life consists of getting my work done each day and keeping myself safe from financial trauma. Im happy if Im not in crisis. I dont interact with others very often. I dont get out much. And when I do I ride my bike or exercise or do things like that. Mostly solitary things. Heres the deal. You have to be passionately alive to write. You have to be experiencing some kind of cutting edge. That cutting edge can be in your mind. But you have to be on the edge of something. And Im not. Im holding my ground in the center, afraid.
Posted on: Thu, 11 Dec 2014 19:01:03 +0000
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