My plan was to make my fingers bleed while away on vacation. I even brought along every possible tool I’d need to get in the zone and stay in the zone. With this mentality, I should have drafted four blog posts, roughed out two short stories, and written an epic novel by the time I got home.
I returned with no more than a handful of pathetic journal entries scribbled into my craving Moleskin.
It is hard to explain. I think I just got lazy and opted to sit on the porch and stare out into the wilderness. Other times I opted to go fish just a little more. None of this was a conscious decision. I never thought I should be back at the cabin writing. I just did the next thing that stumbled in my path.
I suppose thats why writing has been and will remain just a casual hobby for me. I regret that it doesn’t pop into my mind when I have a few free moments. It takes effort for me to get in the proper mindset. Everything I’ve ever read about being writer suggests, rather insists that one must write every day to hone the skills it takes to actual become a decent writer.
So I will once again try to be more regular. To be more consistent. Wait, I think I’ve posted this type of rant before. Perhaps after another unexcused absence?
Well shucks. Never mind.
Run in Peace, Rest in Grace
