Yeah, another post about procrastination and writing. Some day I will get off this topic. Just not today. At least there is a post. That counts for something. I guess.
Sigh.
(In early summer, I planted these sunflowers. Right after sprouting, something ate them all. Then more flowers appeared. They, too, were consumed. Now, third time around, this one has not given up. Let's see if it lasts until the first frost. I would use this as an inspiring metaphor, except, my luck, this one ends up being devoured soon after I publish this post.)
Around the time I started this blog, which was at the beginning of the pandemic, I immersed myself in YouTube videos and podcasts, seeking knowledge about writing. So, I consumed the wisdom of writers, both famous and newly published. Poured through their advice and experiences. Digested their failures. And envied their successes. At least a hundred hours ticked away as I dove aimlessly down various rabbit holes. And when a branching tunnel clearly led to the surface, to the realm of actuality and activity, away from potentiality and passivity, I would turn aside, and seek a downward passage. Along the way, I had convinced myself this research was necessary. All this information would make me confident, improve my writing.
Instead, I was avoiding what had to be done. The act of physically committing my thoughts to words. I was procrastinating. And I blame Stephen King for enabling this lifelong bad habit of mine. Okay, it is not his fault. Unfortunately, I read something of his, out of context, and used it to justify my inability to write my thoughts down. In an interview about the writing process, King said:
"I never write ideas down. Because all you do when you write ideas down is kind of immortalize something that should go away. If they're bad ideas, they go away on their own."
When pressed about the fear of losing an idea, he remarked that good ideas would keep popping up, while the bad ones would eventually go away. So, there you have it, from one of the most famous, prolific writers.
My procrastination delighted in this advice. No need for me to develop a new habit of writing down ideas as they came to me. The good ones would reappear indefinitely, while the bad one would fade away over time. I had permission to continue bouncing along my rabbit holes.
And that is what I did, for three years.
Until today.
Well, that is what I want to be able to say to you dear reader. However, if you have been reading my blog since the beginning, you know quite well that I have not changed this habit. Except for the NaWriMo experiment last November, I have not written any fiction. Not even to write down my ideas. While it may not work for Stephen King, cataloguing all the ideas swirling in my head would be a good start to a better habit for me.
The only thing I have done consistently, are these blog posts.
For now, it is what fuels my persistence.
After all, tomorrow is a new day.
One day at a time.
It is what it is.
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