I am a creature of habit.
Recent bad weather, then some blood sugar problems, kept me off the bike for a few weeks. Then a month later I realized that there was no reason to not ride the bike. I’m now trying to get back in the saddle regularly.
The same happened with my writing. While I’m always working on stories in my head, I haven’t been typing as much as I’d like. I started in January, committing to writing one 100 word story a week. That went well. In March I added a weekly blog post about what’s going on in my life.
Now here in April I’ve started writing a weekly essay about writing. The cool thing is that writing three days a week quickly morphed into writing six days a week. I’m now a month ahead on 100 word stories, and have piles of starts for the other days.
One problem I’ve discovered is how I don’t believe my writing is important. They are after all just tiny little scenes and stories that crank out without much effort. The word effort is the key. Growing up with the Irish Catholic/Puritan work ethic, if something isn’t a struggle it has no value.
Writing is what I do for fun. I delight in these pieces I produce. It’s like a game. So how can the product of a game have worth?
People read my stories, the web logs say so. I’m honestly not looking for external validation. First I need internal validation. Maybe my lack of self esteem won’t allow it. Maybe I need a personal celebration of specialness.
Oh yeah, habits. Remember what works for me might not work for you. Be one with your writing. That sounds good and zen.
Photo by Lucy Maude Ellis