When I was in high school, I took creative writing for a few years. It goes without say that it was my favorite topic and among my favorite classes that I'd taken in those four years. We once had a prompt where we had to write about writing, and we could do so in any style. It was an interesting prompt, with a rather critical thought process and writing process. It was difficult to do it justice; to be able to put words to the emotions attached to writing. I can still remember sitting with my fingers perched in position on my keyboard, hovering slowly over the keys, then retreating back, unready to make the first mark, the first dash of black across a blank white page.To evoke a sense of understanding in the reader in something so specific to each individual is difficult. Writing isn't loved by everyone, but I can be appreciated, and it was interesting to work so hard on such a short piece, to be so invested in doing it justice.
Now, my fingers hover above the keys in the same way, but with less determination, less fixation on my end goal and purpose. I'll click away from what I'm working on, close my notebook after tearing out the page, push it out of my mind. It's been hard for me to fully invest myself in my writing recently, and this happens from time to time. I hate it, though. It's hard to write something and then send it out for the world to see while not being entirely confident in your work. There's so much pressure to create something relatable, something others will want to share. And there's nothing wrong with that at all--it's just not entirely feasible to create content like that 100 percent of the time, especially when you want to.
That's why writer's block is my nemesis. There's the fear of never succeeding past what you've created already; it's a real one for me. And I guess now the fear of not following through, after openly admitting that I have writer's block. Isn't that like admitting defeat? Admitting that you've peaked before you've even gotten started? It's the writer's form of throwing in the towel, flying a white flag for surrender. Oops.
Staying sedentary in my writing style is something that I'd never want to happen, and each time writer's block pops up from the depths of my mind, I worry that it might actually happen this time around, that I might actually reach my personal peak of contentment and pride with my own writing. I can't imagine that legitimately happening though. I'm seldom out of things to talk about. I'll always have whatever floats through my chaotic mind to drone on about, like I'm doing right now.
I like to see writer's block as an excuse to test my limits. A reason to go on a spontaneous adventure or to finally cross something off of my bucket list, no matter how small, basic or arbitrary it may be. Whatever can give me my fix, my spark of inspiration that I need to write. (And I like to use it as an excuse to drink a lot more coffee, because I tend to bounce from coffee shop to coffee shop, trying to find my new "place").
I'm a firm believer in the notion that nothing is over until it is declared so. Nothing in the realms of writing is "over" for me, but I may just need to turn to a blank page and begin a new chapter.
