I used to hate writing. My earliest recollections of having to write were that it was a requirement for some stodgy old teacher who derived pleasure from the cries and moans of the children in their classes. My guess was that they were into torture, and secretly had a dungeon with a cage and various other implements of pain that they would use on unsuspecting traveling salesmen and small children whose baseballs landed in her yard. I personally never experienced that exact scenario, but I heard the stories.
As I grew I still never really gained an affinity for writing, however I discovered that I wasn't half bad at it. That meant that I was at least half good at it; but I still didn't enjoy it. I recall one assignment that I was given in high school, in fact my mother found it in a box recently, and it was to journal everyday of the quarter. I think of myself as an empathetic person. (Maybe Pres. Obama would appoint me to the Supreme Court?) I suddenly felt the pain of all those tortured traveling salesmen and baseball-less children in a giant cage, being poked at with a stick by a hunchbacked, troll of a man, who was ultimately discovered to be her love child from a one night stand with a aluminum siding salesman, whom she subsequently tortured and devoured like some humanoid black widow. Sorry, I digress.
As I was saying, I had this assignment and I spent every day of the quarter writing about how much I hated writing. I must admit, it was slightly funny, even now I read it and chuckle at my wit. Yet, it had no real substance. It basically went like this... "I hate writing, I hate is so very much. I hate it more than I hate broccoli and I really hate broccoli, that is how much I hate writing." I went on to compare writing to all of the things in my teenage world that I had extreme contempt for, including the teacher. I figured she wouldn't really read them so I tossed in a few jabs at her now and again to see if she was paying attention. She never called me on it so I suspect my postulation was correct.
College wasn't much better, there I had to write research papers and the like. That was boring and pointless as well. Unfortunately I didn't get the luxury of adding insults and witty commentary about my professors and how I thought that perhaps they too had cages and implements of torture that they would use on students who dared to visit them during office hours. Regardless, throughout all of my suffering, I learned and gained a respect for writing.
Fast forward to today. It has been several months now since I have written anything other than a honey do list and maybe a few bad checks. You see, I recently lost my motivation to write due to some, lets just say shit, that gave me a pretty good right hook to the jaw and sent me to my corner to regain my composure. But today, I choose to just write. I don't know how often I will blog, but I have good intentions and hope that this is a new beginning for me. I started on a novel, didn't get very far with it, but I hope that I will get back to work on that as well.
Long story short, I enjoy writing now. I don't have anyone to answer to but myself. I am not being graded, and I do it because I can, not because it is required. I will just write.
4 years ago