I haven’t posted in a while. Sorry.
I know I talk about being a writer. I know I talk about writing. I know I’ve talked about how you need to write and read and write and write more and no matter what you do, keep writing.
I know I’ve talked about how, when you don’t feel like writing, you just have to suck it up and write.
And I think that’s all true.
But sometimes . . . life, you know?
Sometimes life is hard. Sometimes you’re busy. Sometimes you’re tired. Sometimes you can’t seem to get six hours of sleep a night.
Sometimes school decides that you need to do a million projects and papers and presentations right at the end of the year when you have the least energy for it.
Sometimes you work early in the morning and late at night, and you just want to have a moment to breathe.
Sometimes more important things come up in your life and everything else gets pushed to the back burner.
Sometimes you get sick.
Sometimes your family gets sick.
And then you get sick.
Because . . . life.
Sometimes you start a blog about writing and reading and Victorian literature, and you think it’s going to be great and fun. And it is. And you write about what it’s like being a writer and a reader, and you write about writing and reading.
And you tell everyone that they should write and read, too.
And then sometimes life just keeps going on, and it’s hard or monotonous or you make different choices–and that blog you started seems like a burden instead of a pleasure.
And you don’t read, and you don’t write.
And you feel like a hypocrite.
Sometimes this happens two months after you’ve started your blog, and you think, “Wow, I have no endurance.”
Sometimes, when you look at your computer or your book, and you think about writing or reading, it seems like a lot of work that you don’t want to do.
So sometimes you pass it up, and you go waste your time instead.
Or you go invest your time instead.
Sometimes you want to spend time with your family.
Sometimes you want to spend time with your friends.
Sometimes you want to go to bed early or sleep in late.
Sometimes you want sit down under a blanket with a cup of something hot and watch a movie.
Sometimes you make bad decisions on how to use your time.
Sometimes you make good ones.
Sometimes none of those decisions involve writing.
Sometimes you’re a human being, and you have a privileged, stretched-out, twenty-first century life. You have your fingers in a lot of pies, or whatever that saying is. (Why would you have your finger in a pie? Did you drop your ring in there? What is this saying?)
You have a lot of facets in your life, and you like to do lots of different things, and you watch videos and read books about those different things, and they all say, “Do this first thing in the morning! Make this your priority! Do this for thirty minutes every day!”
You think, “Yeah, that’s awesome! It’s worth spending all that time on!”
Maybe it is.
But life happens, and it’s hard to prioritize all of those things.
It’s hard to exercise first thing in the morning when you’re also trying to have a quiet time first thing in the morning and write a thousand words of fiction first thing in the morning.
Because apparently you’re supposed to do all those things, right? If you want to be good at any of them, that is.
My point is, there are a lot of pies in the world, and you want to . . . stick your fingers in all of them. (Seriously, what is this saying?)
Some pies have to be less important than others.
It’s a nice idea to have your life revolve around writing. It’s a nice idea to write a thousand words every day. It’s a nice idea to immerse yourself in writing and read books on it and write blog posts on it and live for it.
It’s a nice idea to say that it’s going to get hard, and that you’re not going to want to do it, and that you must fight the noble battle of persevering when all the people around you are dropping like flies, and that’s why you’re going to be the best writer–because you pushed through it when it got hard.
But sometimes it gets hard, and not only that, but sometimes other things get hard at the same time. And you have to choose.
I guess what I’m trying to say is that right now, maybe writing just isn’t your most important pie.
And I guess what I’m trying to say is that I think that’s okay.
So go ahead and pull that finger out of that pie for a while, because it’s just too much right now, and you looked like an idiot anyway.