I suppose it is only natural that I am so strongly inclined to make every post in this challenge about writing in some way. After all, I am a writer.
I am also starting to realize that this could be a mild character flaw, especially for a challenge such as this, because the last two posts I have had lots of ideas, but struggled to put them into the context of writing, or books. Now, I’ve had a busy week and my attention has not been at its best for blogging, and fiction has fallen by the wayside to some degree, but it has taught me, or rather confirmed something.
When it comes to writing, and to books, I am insatiable. I cannot get enough of it. I could read all day long and still beg for more hours to carry on reading, just another few pages.
My hunger for words, my desire to write is insatiable. Every second of the day could be spent writing and I would still not get enough done to satisfy those urges; that need to create.
No, I am not above procrastination, but I feel immeasurably guilty when I think about how much I could have written had I not been on Facebook.
Now, at times, these needs can work against me, as I am sure they do for any other writer out there who has a family, or friends and loved ones who are looking out for them. We are writers, we cannot and should not be trusted to look after ourselves, because once we get pulled into the worlds we create, there is a chance you may never see us again.
There is a constant internal struggle inside the mind of a writer. That switch that we all have, which allows us to turn things off, that doesn’t exist when it comes to writing. Ideas come, they dwell inside our minds and when the time is right they develop. We have no control over this. It could be a snippet of a conversation heard, a line from a movie, a stranger on the train. Anything could cause the spark that ignites our mind.
It is difficult for those who do not write to understand this, and to accept it. Being married to, or in a relationship with a writer must, at times, be quite the burden. Our insatiable lust for the worlds we create can easily lead to us forgetting the real world that is going on around us.
It is important, no, it is imperative, to find time to step out into the real world. To experience life. For me is my children. Playing with them, running around at the indoor playground we go to, climbing and jumping over things, crafts back home, or just lounging around with them on the sofa
Having a family is a great way to ensure that I keep myself grounded in reality, but that does not change the internal struggle that continues. Writing is always in your head. Noises and voices – just not the kind of ones that tell you to burn things or poke your neighbour with a pointy stick while they are sunbathing – are a constant, and we neither can, nor would turn it off, because that is who we are.
We are insatiable, we lust after books and fiction. Writing is not a hobby you can cast aside when the time calls. It is part of who we are, it is intrinsic to who we are as individuals, and without it, without this desire to create worlds outside of the real, then we would be truly lost.