Sometimes I get jealous when I surf other people's blogs. "Wow," I think. "They have their very own place on the internet where they can post what they like!"
Of course, the moment that I actually form the feeling into so many words is usually the same moment that I remember I have my own blog.
I am a silly goose, no?
At the moment, my laptop is back in semi-working condition. I don't know how long it will last -- I've learned not to take anything for granted -- but I am determined to not be disappointed, no matter what happens with it. Disappointment, when you really look at it, can be such a waste of energy. Treat everything like a gift, and with time everything feels like a delightful surprise. It's a beautiful way to live.
I am thinking that I might not do NaNoWriMo after all. This morning, I found myself thinking of November, and wishing that I didn't have to curtail all the writing-related things I want to do, simply because I think I should do NaNoWriMo. It is true that at this stage in my life, I desperately need some time devoted solely to creativity. But the more I reflect on the matter, the more I think that NaNoWriMo is not the creative activity that I need.
The reason that the passion and creativity have left my writing is this: since I discovered I could write, I have tried my best to accomplish something with my writing because I wanted to prove that I could accomplish something, not because I loved writing itself. Sure, I still loved it, but I took that passion for granted as a tool, a means to an end. The continual pressure I put on myself to perform has driven so much of the joy from my writing. I find myself longing for the days when I could start random stories in order to play with an idea, without feeling like I absolutely had to finish them. I want to be able to "doodle" with my writing again.
So, here is what I propose to do with my writing life: instead of devoting the month of November to writing 50,000 words of a novel, I will devote that time to creativity. I will play with ideas, construct plots I may never use, scribble character sketches, start stories that I will never finish, draw characters, and care not if I make a mess. I will do the things that the performance pressure has kept me from doing. And hopefully, I will heal.