Writing, I miss it. I honestly do. Even the silly stuff I used to do just for some quick cash.
For years, I wrote long-form posts on my personal "blog" (before it was even called blogging. Then wrote for free on some sites. And later, I also got paid for writing more-or-less on a daily basis for more than ten years. I updated my status constantly. I tweeted relentlessly. I blogged on tumblr, pinterest, my personal website. And yet, I always said and wished to "write more." Creatively, I suppose, is what I meant when I forlornly would say that.
I came to know writing and love it as a kid. Doing stories for vocabulary sparked it. (I was always good at spelling; the gateway drug to writing.) Poetry classes in grade school were my favorite! (I was apparently good at it too, I have an award somewhere to prove it - along with the dozen others I got from graduation. Nerd of nerds.) High school I was busy discovering girls. (Though I did some writing - school newspaper, poetry, stuff for drama club. Nerd of nerds.)
In college, I found a new passion in playwriting just because I thought why not write my own something instead of directing someone else's work — I was also very full of myself in college. But, nonetheless, people liked my writing. And I loved having people love something I created. (Geek of geeks.)
So here I am post-grad, happily-married, in middle-life? with plenty of time over the past number of years since leaving my 9-to-5 life behind and I've not much to show for it. No full-length play, not even a string of short stories to throw together. Plenty of crappy articles and blah blog posts out there with my name on it if you google me, though.
Am I just not a writer? I've struggled year in and year out with saying I am, I'm not. It seems the only time I have written is when I get paid for it or I have an assignment or deadline to worry about. Am I just lazy? How could I love something so much, miss it even, be jealous of others who write so prolifically, if I don't even do it WHEN I have the time to do it constantly?
Midnight manifesto over; time to get this pity party? to bed.
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