Not Writing

It’s been almost a year since I last posted something here, or anywhere for that matter. (For the people on Facebook that I haven’t talked to for a year, happy birthday/congratulations on whatever important things happened in your life that I missed by being a digital hermit!) A lot of that is due to my own laziness, but also because I’m trying to take on too many things at once before I’ve even started proper on any one project. I can throw around excuses like work and lack of inspiration but it’s all hokey pokey bullshit. I guess it was just fear that I didn’t really have anything to say that hasn’t been said before.

Every single book or blog I’ve read on writing all have at least one caveat in common: if you want to be a better writer, you have to write. Like, a lot. Every time I came across this concept I thought to my self “That sounds exactly right. Brilliant advice, very logical” And then I would go to work or go out or sit down on the sofa the furthest possible distance from the keyboard and melt my brain with some fantastic (and a little bit of not so fantastic) on demand programming. I would congratulate myself on reading and studying so much material on the subject of writing and then lash out a couple hundred words and put it in the “Done” pile for 3 months. I read about how the brain reward system interprets thinking about doing something the same as actually doing it (if I find the link again I’ll post it here) and I used that to get myself off the hook with myself. We are clever little animals when you think about it, able to fool ourselves like that, and still get the brain treats. Putting the dope back in dopamine, wha?

So I guess this is an attempt at some honest, middle of the head writing, taking a break from the fiction I was already taking a break from. A lot of what I was writing seemed forced after a second reading, “lacking in originality” if I was to write that on the side of the page in red, with a little “see me after class” thrown in. I imagine that’s because I wasn’t writing enough, hadn’t really found my voice, the type of writing where someone could go “Oh yeah, that’s Neil’s stuff. I love all the colloquial swearing he uses. C**t is not a verb, silly!” and that’s on me. I want to admit it publicly, seeing as shame is a great motivator.

Promises promises, to myself and to anyone who would stop and spare a moment on my little rented corner of the internet. I probably won’t keep them, I’m very nice to myself when I want to be. Although, I am on holidays for a couple of weeks (maybe a little inspiration for the anti-establishment theme of the previous post), so I might find myself hovering towards the keyboard again sooner rather than later. Who knows? In the meantime, I’ll let Jerry Springer lead you out.

Take care of yourselves, and each other.

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About Neil

Neil Rochford is a writer from Ireland and has lived in various places around the world. He loves fiction where bad things happen, is trying to feed himself with his words and he is available for freelance writing gigs and wakes. His book, The Blue Ridge Project, is available NOW on Amazon.