It’s been three days with about nine hours’ worth of writing after a couple (plus) years not writing anything except required work writing.
Finding That Old Groove
It feels good to wake up excited to put my headphones on, Queen singing in my ears (and heart), and opening Scrivener, seeing my words. I love picking up where I left off the day before, noticing how many words I’ve added and grinning with happiness the words are advancing and not stagnant.
My typical process is to read everything I wrote two or three days earlier before beginning, but these past few days, I am reading the last line only and pressing on.
Finding a New Groove
I’m consciously, albeit with a great deal of discipline, not editing as I go along. That is one of the major obstacles to my writing – editing my words. I will spend twenty minutes in a Thesaurus trying to find the right word for a sentence.
I remind myself there will be time for that.
Just write.
When This Writer Writes
I feel whole.
I’ve written since I was 8-years old. I only stopped writing when someone read my journals or when I was shamed about what I was writing.
Now my journals are online and everyone can read them.
Fuck you all who shamed me and tied my hands. I’m kinky, but it has to be consensual. I no longer consent to you binding and gagging me.
To My Writing Companions
Write.
If you don’t write, it can be toxic enough to kill you. If not physically, then definitely your spirit.
If you have no privacy, write in the bathroom. If people are snooping, hide and lock your words.
Please just don’t keep them in.
Write with no expectation of being published or famous.
(Do you hear that, Barb? Are you listening?)
Just fucking write already.
Navelgazing Writer 