Sunday, March 9, 2014

Writing about not Writing

Over the past few weeks, I've had several people - from rather different areas of my life - mention something along of the lines of "I enjoy reading your blog." Which has made me feel a bit sad because I haven't really written anything in a while. Sad, because I like writing. Sad, because I miss writing. And sad, because I don't really seem to have the right words these days, and so I simply haven't been writing. It's not for lack of trying. I just peeked at my list of posts and found to my surprise five drafts of posts I've tried to write in the past few months. Some are serious, some mundane, some silly. But none of them have made it to the publishing phase. It's not like I'm so concerned about writing terribly high brow prose (good grief, I've written at least half a dozen episodes about lizards in the past). And yet, somehow, I can't seem to get the wording write (pun intended).

So, this is a brief post to tell you that I have been trying to write, without much success. Frankly, even if I had a reading audience of just one--or none--I would still be perplexed and saddened that I haven't been able to produce anything relatively decent enough to post on my tucked away, somewhat-forgotten (by me, and by you) blog. And that I wish I had something else to say, or rather, I wish I had a way to say what I want to say well, but right now, I don't.

The truth is, mostly I write for myself. I find Flannery O'Connor's statement about writing to be increasingly true in my life: "I write because I don't know what I think until I read what I say." So in not knowing what to write about, or how to say it, I am floundering somewhat; unsure of what is going on in my head. Here's hoping for inspiration and "a way with words" to come, and to come soon.

The End.

For now.

I hope.