How many times have I done this – pick myself up, dust off my jeans, and hit restart? Right now, I’m talking in terms of my blog. I had a beautiful one, prior to this. Shame I didn’t think to save some of those posts. However, I needed to re-work things. A fresh start. The ideas are still there. What’s in my noggin never seems to go away, although sometimes I wish it would.
Last night, I created a new outline… Handwritten. In an adorable sketch book I found at Target, in the dollar section. Written with a rose gold-colored metallic marker, via the same shopping trip. I think these items are meant for children. Whatever. Channeling the imagination of our inner child is vital to the creative process, true? The ideas were pouring out of my brain last night. I liked it. As an expert in writer’s block, I have to carpe diem when I can. I felt better about everything. Ten minutes of putting metallic marker to paper, and I had a bit of clarity.
The process fascinates me just as much as the finished product. I’m amazed at writers who can sit down and pound out a complete creative output in what seems like minutes. I’m perplexed by those, such as myself, who have all the ideas, notes, outlines, blogs, and delete, erase, and reboot before finishing. I’m sure there are writers who fall somewhere in between. The writing spectrum. Just have find that comfortable spot.
I have ideas about which direction I want to follow on this long road from there to here. Perhaps I’ll finally try my hand at fiction, which I admittedly suck at. Creative non-fiction and the retelling of actual life events are my forte. I spent some formative teenage years writing silly stories for the school newspaper and wanting to be a journalist. However, I want to challenge myself. Writing fiction would definitely be that. I also see it as liberating – free myself from reality for a while. Character development, coming up with some unknown place and time, or making a known place and time whatever I want it to be.
I’m liking this starting over, again, business.