I took two weeks off from writing so I could get ready for Christmas, spend more time with my family, and rest up to recover from my over-share of recent illnesses. Two weeks has somehow turned into four. Except for writing here most days, I'm not writing at all. And it makes me feel a little irritable.
To stop writing entirely after working so hard for ten weeks non-stop is kind of like hiring a personal trainer for ten weeks and then resting for four - most of the effect is undone and you have to start over again to build yourself up to the point where you were. Mostly, I'm not in the mood to sit and write for hours - or even one. I am very disappointed in myself that I let myself go when I was on such a roll.
So I signed up for another two sessions of my writing class. The class is funny - it's not instruction at all and you don't write there. It's worth the money for me because it motivates me. I want to come to class with a prepared piece that I'm proud of. My insane perfectionistic ego cannot walk into class with something half-done. And it's great to have someone to read it to - people who are there to hear what other people write.
The writing class is gratifying but amazingly difficult at the same time. I don't know if there was one class last term where I didn't shed a few tears - either because what I wrote was difficult to read or because the heartfelt words of others were so sad and emotional.
Last term, I was determined to complete a children's story. For the next two terms, I want to polish one adult story and finish writing a second in addition to finalizing the edits to my children's story. Something about the writing class brings out the poet in me. I don't plan to write poems, but they just bubble up like the froth when you make oatmeal or brown rice that always seems to seep over the edges no matter how much I stir. I will be interested to see what bubbles up next.
This morning, I wanted to write while my baby slept late. The silence was unbearable so I texted my husband instead while I tidied the house and put in a load of laundry. My baby just woke up and is patiently unrolling a container of dental floss until I write my last words.
The bottom line is I need to just start doing the daily writing again. If I can't get started with a new story, I need to edit a chapter of a finished story or dig out my notes and drafts from the two I want to work on. I need to get out a journal and just fill it with whatever like I used to do every day. I'm not sure at this point the value of the Natalie Goldberg style of writing practice when I'm already confident about my writing, have several works in progress, and have this forum to write regularly - motivation to write more is it, so I will dust off my journal and get busy - maybe today, maybe tomorrow.