Sometimes I wonder if I should even have this blog. I mean, at the heart of every blog (and yes, I mean EVERY) is writing. Words strung together to make sense, and hopefully entertain or enlighten or provoke you into a thought you never had. At least that's what good writing does.
And said writing should spill. Spill out of the writer like...um, good stuff. Not like that last sentence, either. It should feel like thoughts on paper. Writing shouldn't bring anxiety to the writer. It should be like an eloquent speaker speaking, like a star athlete running, like a fine actor bringing you to tears.
But lately the only thing flowing out of this writer is...nothing. Blogging lately has been like driving through a neighborhood full of speed bumps (I seem to remember using that metaphor somewhere lately...hey, it works).
Some days I used to die to get to the keyboard so I could get something down. I would jot notes, mental mostly, about things I wanted to write about. I would stay up late and annoy Pete with the pecking of my keyboard...just to get something down before the thoughts escaped me.
Not so lately. Writer's block seems to have taken up residence here.
So if I'm sparse out here of late, you'll know why. Blogging should be fun and guilt free...and lately it's neither of those things. So I'll spare you the junk and wait until the words flow out of my fingers again...
Hopefully that day isn't too far off.