A confession: Though it may appear that I only write on this blog every month or so, this is untrue. The truth is, I write a lot—I mean, a lot—that I end up not using. (Much like my manuscripts.)
Let me share the titles of some of the drafts in my folder:
Please Don’t Reset the Year Until I Get to a Save Point. — In which I feel really bad about David Bowie and Alan Rickman dying within a week of each other, but I accomplished a Major (and overdue) Thing and I really don’t want to have to do it again, because it was hard the first time.
My Word for 2016 is ‘Badass.’ — Pretty much what it says it is.
Death and Taxes — As in, the only two things in life that are certain. (This was kind of a downer.)
OMGSTARWARS! — Too many feels to contain. Too many spoilers to post.
All I Want to Do is Keep a Schedule, So Why Do I Need All These Stickers and Colored Pens? — In which I type the word “Planner” into the Pinterest search bar and get sucked into a Filofax-LifePlanner-Hobinachi-SmashJournal Wormhole. (I found out I really like just a Moleskine and a pen. Maybe I color code it a little. Okay, a lot.)
It’s Not You, WordPress, It’s Me. Is blogger’s block a thing? What if I’m only brilliant 140 characters at a time? I have a master’s degree in communication! Social Media shouldn’t be this hard! *sobs into couch cushions*
Yeah, I’m totally making this harder than it should be. Don’t try this at home.
No, really. Don’t. I have years and years of training.
Why would anyone write things and then throw them out? Especially, you know, a professional writer. Well, I’ll tell you. Here’s a sample conversation in my head.
Me: La la la, I’m so happy to be writing a blog post today. I hope people enjoy reading it.
(Metaphorical) Devil on my shoulder: Oh honey, no. There was a school shooting today, so you’d better post something Important and Profound.
Me: Man, that makes me angry and sad. I’d much rather post about how much I love colored pens.
Devil: Hmmm. Better not post anything. Then we can go get a cherry lime slush from Sonic.
Me: Mmmm… Sonic.
The devil on my shoulder is kind of a passive-agressive asshole.
And then there’s this:
(Metaphorical) Angel on my shoulder: You know what Every Single Writing Article ever says: you’re not a Real Writer if you don’t write every day.
Me: But I didn’t write yesterday.
(Metaphorical) Devil on my shoulder: Then you must not be a Real Writer.
Me: Okay, then. I’m going to sit here and stare at this blank screen until I’ve writtten something.
Me: Maybe I’ll be inspired if I look at Pinterest for awhile.
Angel: DO NOT TOUCH THAT TRACKPAD, YOUNG LADY.
Me: *touches trackpad*
Devil: You know, if you were a real writer, you would have written 10 pages by now. Just look at all those Real Writers posting their word counts on The Twitter.
Angel: Do NOT even THINK about clicking over to— DAMMIT!
Me: Wow. Those are some Real Writers.
Devil: Yep. And you haven’t written anything in two days now.
Me: I must not be a Real Writer.
Devil: My work here is done. Let’s go to Sonic.
This isn’t just a writer thing. I know I’m not the only one who thinks “Welp, I’ve blown my calorie count for the day, so I might as well have this ice cream sundae.”
(It occurs to me that I might be a little hungry as I’m writing this.)
I’m not any crazier than the next person (in this regard)–we all have an inner passive-agressive asshole. (It gets it’s script from all the outer passive-agressive assholes we’ve met in our lives). But we don’t have to listen.
(I just cut a lot of metaphor about volume dials and car radios on bumpy roads. You’re welcome.)
So, I’ve managed to post a blog before January is over. (*makes checkmark in turquoise for social media task*) And I even I managed to work it around to a takeaway point.
My work here is done. And Sonic is open for another 15 minutes.