In honor of Columbus Day, I took Monday off from blogging, and (going backwards) Sunday, Saturday, Friday and Thursday. Illness, albeit brief, kept me from any thoughtful musings on that fateful non-blogging Thursday, and then in the scramble to catch up, it wasn't until last night that I counted the missed days.
Blogging is useful as a goal process – there is much to be said about deciding to do something and then actually doing it – and for a writer, the practice of writing everyday creates a groove in the brain that propels continuous ideas.
The challenge is to keep writing, no matter what.
At the first of the year when I changed jobs, I noticed that writing on my fiction manuscript slowed. When the new job morphed into more management responsibilities (I got a promotion) my fiction writing slowed to a trickle. Then stopped.
I filled the fiction writing void with blogging. I weighed in on several topics: non-profits helped by Dining for Women, the cool things that Umpqua Bank is doing, how the Internet disrupts family relationships, the psychology of negotiating, struggling with email and what gets in the way of accomplishing our goals.
I wrote about the results of blogging everyday. For seven weeks I blogged about the analytics that resulted of consistent blogging. I served up my favorite quotes from things I read or heard.
And I mulled over why I had stopped writing fiction.
The manuscript, that is currently in the works, is inching close to a part that is emotionally powerful, potentially explosive and crafting it well can define who I am as a writer. I've taken classes by Bill Johnson who wrote, A Story is a Promise. He would pose the theory that halting writing at this critical juncture would intimate that I'm afraid of the emotions the manuscript unveils.
I don't think I'm afraid at all.
But what if I am?
The only thing that cures fear is to face it. This week I plan to open the WORD doc of my manuscript and re-read it. The consecutive blogging is disrupted. The manuscript has rested long enough. I've had some well days to reflect.
I'm curious to know what will happen next.
If it's not too scary, I'll let you know.