Writing, Writing, Writing

I have been thinking about writing. You know, putting letters together to form words and then putting them together to from sentences and sentences into paragraphs and presto change-o you have a blog post.

Um, yeah.

That is, if you do it.

I just wrote I have been thinking about it.       And thinking.          And thinking.

Well, I decided to DO it.

I have slacked off writing because: my feelings were hurt. My thoughts wouldn’t come. The words stayed in my head.

I don’t know why I think my feelings were hurt, maybe because I didn’t walk into resounding applause everytime I walked into the office, or no one asked about my writing.

My thoughts wouldn’t come because they weren’t invited. You know, a thought comes through and you say, ” No, thanks. That’s a bad one.” So they don’t feel invited and stop coming.

The words stayed in my head, because I wouldn’t sit down and let them out.

You choose an excuse. There are many. I can’t use the one about two many people in the house, there are only two of us and my husband gives me the space to come into the office and computer and work on getting those words down.

And what do I do? Facebook. Games. E-mail. Staring at the screen.

Well, that’s over for now. I am writing.

I have had a tough time coming back to it, because I had convinced myself that it really wasn’t worthwhile. Sound familiar?

I truly thought only beginning writers had this problem. Well, I have been writing long enough that beginning doesn’t describe it anymore. I am a writer.

So I have to write.

Just sit down and write.

I have come back to it many times and left it just as many.

I am here to stay.

I will come back tomorrow and do it all over again. Another subject. Another story.

The subject may still be writing, but it will be a different story.

Do you have something in your life that you love that you keep leaving in a heap on the floor? Well, I am picking up my heap and making it a story.