“What follows will be my book-the book of Catherine, called Little Bird or Birdy, daughter of Rollo and the lady Aislinn, sister to Thomas, Edward, and the abominable Robert, of the village of Stonebridge in the shire of Lincoln, in the country of England, in the hands of God. Begun this 19th day of September in the year of Our Lord 1290, the fourteenth year of my life. The skins are my father’s, left over from the household accounts, and the ink also. The writing I learned of my brother Edward, but the words are my own.
Picked off twenty-nine fleas today.”
– Catherine, Called Birdy Karen Cushman
Writing is hard, kittens. Coming up with something to talk about that is engaging, interesting, clever (hopefully), and worth someone’s time to read is hard. The reason I blog is to keep my hand in with writing until such a time as I can try and make it my full time career, but it is hard. And I find that when I take breaks, or frankly get busy trying to get through the day job, it can be difficult to start up again.
Case in point. Work got ridiculously busy a couple of weeks ago, to the point that I was staying late and even coming in early some morning to just get through my To Do list that day. I had no free time to even think of things to write about. Around about the same time a couple of things happened that made be extremely – well, not angry, let’s say terminally grouchy, and I made a conscious decision not to write for a few days because blogs are trick mediums. You can spend hours clacking away at your keyboard only to hit publish and find out too late that you over shared something, or divulged something you did not really wish to. Blogs, in my opinion and speaking strictly on behalf of Small Dog Enterprises, can be places of blowing off steam (as long as you tell a good story to go with it) but some people have a tendency to use it in lieu of therapy. There’s nothing wrong with it, but I know it would be a really unhelpful and pointless thing for me to do.
So, I step back. I take breaks. I feel it’s right to do so.
But then I try to get back into the swing of things and feel so utterly stumped. Writing requires practice, there are few geniuses at it, and even most of those require some forethought before they put pen to page. I find when I get out of the habit of writing, just like exercising, or putting on my makeup, it can get easier to put it off longer and longer.
So down with laziness! Things have returned to normal (as normal as they ever get here in Nowhereford, Noneofyourbusinesshire University PD), and my neglect of practice will end. What have you been up to in the last couple of week, minions?