Today I am forcing myself to write. Not just blah, blah, blah like this, but getting back to storytelling. And I'm way overthinking it.
I'd like to write a short story before I tackle another novel. But my brain is in production mode, full of challenging questions: who will read this? What if [insert loved one] doesn't like it? Do I really want to commit all that time? What if I get bored with my own subject? Do I really need more files of unfinish projects and false starts?
That's a really unproductive state of mind.
I have to remind myself to practice writing (to keep the words flowing) AND to use writing as a meditative practice that helps keep me centered and sane. I sit down with my notebook every morning but that ritual has deteriorated into rehashing what I did yesterday, what I need to do today, odd little mindmaps, and a few notes on what I'm reading. Precious few astute observations. No brilliant metaphors. Definitely no stories.
If I want to be a storyteller, if have to tell stories. But sometimes I worry about the sharing (aka publication) before I've actually explored what it is I have to say.
Like I said, OVERTHINKING. By Sunday morning, we'll be on the road. New stimulation, new inspirations ahead. Open my head and let it pour in -- then poise my hands to let it flow out.
Jan 26, 2012