I love meeting up with friends and acquaintances from my previous life -the one where I was a slightly more stressed out/highly strung version of my current self- but I hate the question that I am routinely asked by them:

“So what about you, are you still writing?”

Or maybe the question doesn’t bother me so much, and it’s just the answer that I have come to loath.  Because the truthful answer is:

“No.  No I’m not writing.”

Of course, I don’t tend to say that.  I tend to soften it by saying, “Not really, [*INSERT GENERIC EXCUSE HERE*].”

And while I know that the excuses are all true (I have been busy with college lately; it has been draining me of all my productive energies; I am just focusing on getting through my degree in media and nightmares), it still doesn’t make the answer any easier to live with, because that’s the line of many would-be-but-not-quite writers.

True writers write DESPITE the many excuses and reasons not to.  So at the moment I’m not a true writer, despite my wrist tattoo* which tries desperately to claim otherwise.

I watched a TED Talk recently about how we need to focus on adapting our behaviours in order to achieve our goals, so I guess that’s really what I have to start doing.  This rant-writing/blogging system is a good start (at least I’m writing everyday!), but I definitely need to go bigger.

It’s all about carving out the time to write, and I mean properly write, but also overcoming the huge fear that I may have lost whatever talent I once had; the fear that college has sucked all of my creativity dry.

I guess we’ll find out once I carve out some hours alone with my pen.


*A quill tattoo, and my first ink experience.  I got this tattoo very shortly after I dropped out of college (the first time) to remind me of my ultimate goal: to earn a living as a writer.

Someday.  I’ll get there.



2 thoughts on “Excuses

  1. Pingback: Out of hibernation

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