If there’s a particular set of words that I honestly hate posting, it’s these. Yes, once again, these are the words that I post when I just can’t think of much to write about.
Look, as I’ve said, this is one of those days where you don’t need to write what I’ve written. Honest. I will not feel hurt in any way if you turn around, and quietly walk away.
To restate: I made this pledge, at the beginning of December, to post one piece of writing a day of at least 500 words. For a while, I also made a pledge to post a story a week, but that just felt as if I were overdoing it.
The commitment to post an essay, however, remains, and right now, I just can’t think of much to write about. Which means, unfortunately, that this essay will be about just not having much to write about. I honestly try to avoid posting these essays as much as possible; today, however, it would appear that I have no choice.
I will, however, avoid sinking into that tempting murk that beckons when I need to write such an essay. This, of course, is one of those times in which I can easily slip into a miserable rumination about how all of my ideas have dried up, and I will never, ever, have another interesting thing to write about, ever. From there, it’s only a short hop to truly masochistic self loathing, in which I write many, many words about how I’m kidding myself, and am not much of a writer at all.
Nah, been there, done that. This, I’m afraid, is just part of the process. If I’m going to document a life spent putting one word after another out there for all to see, well, that also means documenting those days when there’s just not that much there.
And in addition to documenting those days, part of the process of writing and posting something every day is also accepting that these days happen.
No, it doesn’t mean that my ideas have dried up for good. It just means that today is a day I didn’t have any. This is just part of a larger thing, and today’s part just doesn’t have much to say.
At the same time, for me, it’s still important to post a set of words, even on days like this one. A good friend of mine said that maybe, on days like this, it’s just best to take a break and not post anything. The trouble is, I’m afraid I know myself too well: if I don’t post something today, then I won’t post something tomorrow, and then, before I know it, I won’t have posted anything for a month.
If you don’t write much and therefore don’t really know what writing is all about, well, I’ll tell ya, today’s entry is what writing is a about a lot of the time, at least for me. It’a about putting something out there where I know it may not be the best that I’m capable of doing. At the same time, though, it also means putting out the best thing I was capable of doing on that particular day, even if it’s far short of the best thing I’ve ever written.
I can’t believe you actually read this far. Boy, that was nice of you. I wish I could tell you that it will be better tomorrow, but right now, this may be the best that I have in me for a while.
It’ll get better. Promise.
Look, as I’ve said, this is one of those days where you don’t need to write what I’ve written. Honest. I will not feel hurt in any way if you turn around, and quietly walk away.
To restate: I made this pledge, at the beginning of December, to post one piece of writing a day of at least 500 words. For a while, I also made a pledge to post a story a week, but that just felt as if I were overdoing it.
The commitment to post an essay, however, remains, and right now, I just can’t think of much to write about. Which means, unfortunately, that this essay will be about just not having much to write about. I honestly try to avoid posting these essays as much as possible; today, however, it would appear that I have no choice.
I will, however, avoid sinking into that tempting murk that beckons when I need to write such an essay. This, of course, is one of those times in which I can easily slip into a miserable rumination about how all of my ideas have dried up, and I will never, ever, have another interesting thing to write about, ever. From there, it’s only a short hop to truly masochistic self loathing, in which I write many, many words about how I’m kidding myself, and am not much of a writer at all.
Nah, been there, done that. This, I’m afraid, is just part of the process. If I’m going to document a life spent putting one word after another out there for all to see, well, that also means documenting those days when there’s just not that much there.
And in addition to documenting those days, part of the process of writing and posting something every day is also accepting that these days happen.
No, it doesn’t mean that my ideas have dried up for good. It just means that today is a day I didn’t have any. This is just part of a larger thing, and today’s part just doesn’t have much to say.
At the same time, for me, it’s still important to post a set of words, even on days like this one. A good friend of mine said that maybe, on days like this, it’s just best to take a break and not post anything. The trouble is, I’m afraid I know myself too well: if I don’t post something today, then I won’t post something tomorrow, and then, before I know it, I won’t have posted anything for a month.
If you don’t write much and therefore don’t really know what writing is all about, well, I’ll tell ya, today’s entry is what writing is a about a lot of the time, at least for me. It’a about putting something out there where I know it may not be the best that I’m capable of doing. At the same time, though, it also means putting out the best thing I was capable of doing on that particular day, even if it’s far short of the best thing I’ve ever written.
I can’t believe you actually read this far. Boy, that was nice of you. I wish I could tell you that it will be better tomorrow, but right now, this may be the best that I have in me for a while.
It’ll get better. Promise.
