What Writers Do

I don’t write very often anymore. Just facts.  Every so often, I think, “I really should write something today.” And then I don’t,  for various reasons.  Some reasons I understand, and others I don’t.  But since I stopped writing for work OR even pleasure a few months ago, I’ve started feeling pretty low.  Which is okay! It’s normal! People feel blue sometimes!!!!  EVERYTHING IS JUST FINE I DON’T HAVE CANCER PROBABLY.

Honestly, I’m a bit of a mess these days, and my one consolation is that I’m fine enough with it to admit it to the entire internet.

But then I read this Ray Bradbury quote the other day:

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”

And it’s cheesy, but somehow it assisted my realization that I’m always a little bit of a mess.  Always have been. Everybody is, I think.  But the difference is that for the past 4 years I wrote something practically every day, and it kept me feeling okay.  It’s how I process shit.  I’m just a writer.

I’m a writer.  What’s funny is, it took me a long time to start saying that to other people–or even myself.  Which is dumb, but I felt shy about it for 30-whatever years.  And now that I haven’t been writing professionally for a few months, I’ve started feeling weird about it again.  But here’s the thing: I’m not a writer because I’m good at writing; I’m a writer because it’s what I do to make sense of stuff.  If I needed to do magic tricks in order to make sense of my life, I’d be a magician.  If I needed to shoot baskets in order to be okay, I’d be a basketball player.  But I’m not those things, I’m a writer.

The other day a friend of mine suggested I write something small–even just a haiku–every day, just to write something.  So that’s what I’ll do, and I’ll put it here, okay?



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