Make It Like Sex
By S. C. Green
The last month has become a strain on my writing life. I will do my best not to depress you, but it is depressing. Most of my time is taken away by family necessity. I need to take care of things. So writing gets put on hold for now. Reading would get put on hold too if it wasn’t for audio books. Half of my work day I can listen to a book. To be honest, I’ve gone through more books now than I did before. Not too shabby.
I knew from the beginning that it would get like this. I’m not mad or angry about it. I just have to wait. Most of the time I’m able to squirrel away, I use to write this blog and a few at my personal blog site. I’m not upset because I know once things settle down, I will be able to reclaim my writing time. In fact it’s number one on my priority list. I do have one worry.
Will it came back?
All those moments of creative genius, whether they came at the onset or after fifty edits and revisions, will they come back? I guess it’s like riding a bike. You never forget. Or sex. Yeah, why not sex? If you learn to drive a car, you might never want to go back to riding a bike, but sex? I think once you get a taste of that, you’ll do what you can to repeat the experience. So I’ll say writing for me is like sex (kind of).
For some reason or another you’re forced to go without. The whole time you know it suck (unfortunately not literally). There’s a lot of moping that goes on. Random irritability. Without even realizing it, you let yourself go. Those jeans you used to look good in are now abandoned in the back of the closet since you popped the button off. The horror of the whole situation is that eventually you’ll get used to it. Those turkey eating pants become your everyday pants.
Then something changes. There’s prospect that in the near future it will pick up. Now what? You’ve totally let yourself go. What if you get the chance and so utterly and miserably fail at it, will you ever want to try again? You begin to wonder if there’s still hope.
There is. It just takes some preparation. That extra padding didn’t get there by itself. You put it there and you can take it off. Exercise it. Go for a mental jog. Don’t worry about taking on a big project right away. Start small. A writing exercise here and there when you get the chance will help you limber up. Keep it up and you’ll be in good shape in no time.
Then you have to make it presentable. If you don’t want to look at it, no one else will either. Find a spot and claim it. Remove all unwanted clutter from the area. Manscape a nice looking work space. There shouldn’t be any stray papers about. Nothing inspires productivity than a clean workspace. So clean it up.
So I know that if I can keep myself in somewhat decent shape, writing should come back, no problem. But like sex, it sucks waiting for it to come back. I never wanted to go without.
Have you ever gone without? Writing that is. If you have, how did you get back into the swing of it? Please tell me you got back in the swing of it.