I have shamelessly neglected this space. The reason I created this blog was to force myself to write all the time. I hoped it would encourage me to churn out “the goods. “Unfortunately this has not happened. i got distracted by life, people and cursed Tumblr, where hitting the reblog button leaves you feeling exhilarated and “creative.” I miss writing and creating stories. I no longer wish for such limitations.I am taking back my control.
I have been writing a lot lately. Much more than before, but I am still struggling to finish pieces. That is the reason that I love my diary and have kept one for years now. I never feel the need for every word to be perfect and fit properly and be rational. I can simply write. It feels great to be so forgiven. I can never allow myself such licence when I know that other might possibly be reading my work. It feels rude to subject people to poor writing, you know? That fear of not being good enough, of missing the mark can often be crippling. It takes a lot to reach a place where, as a writer, you are emotionally stable enough to accept the fact that you will often be found wanting, and yet convince yourself to keep writing and push forward. You need to convince yourself that you have a story and your story is worth telling and will contribute something, somehow, somewhere. Hope and optimism.
I have been reading a lot over the past three months. I have realised the truth of the statement which asserts the need of reading to enable you to write well. I have read books, journals, blog posts, twitter rants, newspapers, articles on the internet, deep stories, shallow fluff pieces. Good and bad. And the more I read, the easier it is for me to find my voice and assert my writer’s spirit and choose how I want to portray myself and my protagonists’ journey. It is a difficult and subtle process.It gets easier but is not easy. Fingers crossed. Promises to myself. I vow to fight the confusion and to find my voice as a writer and to make strides in my work. Let us call it growth.