Working on working out that writing muscle.

stephen king

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I don’t know how it’s so early in the morning and I’m actually writing this on Word. It seems something is testing my tenacity to write*. Tenacity may be too strong a word. How about my willingness to practice something that I have yearned to do, like a third of the population**: write a novel.

And the key to writing that novel is to actually write, right? Blogging here was initially a creative outlet and way to let my friends in Oz know what I was getting up to. Blogging now could be a way to exercise my willingness-to-and-actually-write muscle.

In the early days of this blog, I would write many times a week. It was a new and exciting thing to be doing when M would nap three times a day. I am lucky if she naps twice now. And then there’s life that gets in the way, like housework, play dates, shopping, worrying, thinking, thinking and thinking.

But the reality is, I’m letting life get in the way. Call is self-sabotage, because there is a certain kick I get out of writing and publishing posts. It means I’ve actually finished something, and finishing stuff is something that I know I need to work on. I usually get revved up with some idea, go crazy about it for a few moments, and when the novelty wears off, I kinda find excuses or something else exciting to invest my energy in.

Being disciplined is hard, but it seems for me, the biggest hurdle is overcoming self-doubt. Maybe I don’t have amazing ideas, maybe my writing is poor, maybe it’s just better to dream and not risk the criticism or rejection.

Well, that’s just the mind playing tricks on me, because as valid as those reasons are, they are just excuses that are holding me back from doing something I cherish and revel in. Perhaps there is still a part of me for whatever reason that believes I don’t deserve the luxury of doing something so valuable to me. Which is crazy, I know.

So it looks like I’m going to have to purge myself of the faffing game (like online retail browsing, party planning, watching crappy reality shows, eating that third slice of brownie cake) and really just… write!

*got out of bed at 5am not wanting to sleep any more. Crept to the front room to do some blogging, only to realise the laptop was in the bedroom. Proceeded to blog on the smartphone but was fighting with WordPress autocorrect to type out a simple word and then gave up. Crept back to the bedroom to pick up laptop, ensconced myself on the sofa all revved up to blog. And then I realised that the Wifi was switched off, and I would have to creep back into the bedroom to turn in on which could potentially wake M up. Eff that, I thought. Which brings us back to why I am blogging it on Word.

**I may be making that statistic up. I once read something somewhere about how many people want to write a novel.


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