Back in the Bike Seat

I know I haven’t updated in a long time (again). It’s hard to write about writing when I haven’t been doing much of it. And I don’t want to get into rants about not writing. Whining doesn’t get anything done, and I don’t want this blog to dive into fruitless complaints.

But I’ve had plenty to complain about. I avoided writing, like the plague, for the past two months because I was afraid of the time it took to polish it. The inactivity did a number on my self-esteem, however, and I got into a rut. It was this depressing situation that brought me back to writing. My sludgy mood buried my perfectionist nature just long enough to get something down on paper.

So I currently have a muse. Granted, it’s the “eh, what the hell, do it” kind, but I’ll take it. The problem is now I have to keep it alive. Its life support consists of some reading, a little free writing and, maybe, blogging. My girlfriend gave me Ray Bradbury’s Zen in the Art of Writing, while I pulled out of my own collection Hooked, by Les Edgerton; both books on writing. I like books on writing more than I like actual fiction, but that’s where my tastes lie for the moment. I’m running out of topics for my freewrites though, so I may pore into some stories for inspiration.

Freewriting leads to rough drafts, but then it leads to revision. I hate revising, only because it baffles me. Every time I try to polish my first crap draft, my head swims. I don’t even know how to clean my room, much less organize my language. I guess I’ll just have to hammer it out. If I can do that, then I think I’ll finally have what it takes to be a writer.

Then again, I’ve said that on many other occasions…