Writing

I’ve noticed something about my blog posts; the ones which I enjoy writing the most appear to be the ones which you, dear readers, seem to enjoy reading the most. How convenient!

My next observation is that these posts tend to be my most honest, and the ones where I really write. The ones where I truly focus on portraying my emotions and feelings in an accurate way, and sometimes lay myself very bare. It’s these posts which seem to reach out to folk, to invoke similar sentiments and reactions.

I love to hear from readers of the blog who have been through situations like mine, both the positive and the negative, or who have struggled with the same battles I have. Whether it’s to offer their own support or advice, or whether it’s to say thank you for helping them to realise that they are not alone, it is always incredibly rewarding and humbling to read these comments.

The crux of the matter is – I love writing this blog. 

Writing for me is a passion. It’s one which I long to spend more time pursuing. Over the last couple of months, I have found myself itching to be at my laptop or scribbling in a notebook for the majority of my time - words and phrases tumbling through my brain at lightning speed, jostling past each other to make it onto the virtual page in my head. I read an article the other day about Judy Blume’s advice for aspiring writers, and one of her quotes struck me in particular:

“The best books come from someplace deep inside. You don’t write because you want to, but because you have to… Those of us who write do it because there are stories inside us burning to get out. Writing is essential to our well-being.” 

The moment I read this, I thought Yes! That’s me!

But then there is this sudden, awful moment when your mind seems to be…empty. Forgive me for using the phrase – I really don’t like to – but you’re afflicted with a writer’s block of sorts.

This happened to me a couple of weeks ago. There I’d been, merrily and perhaps slightly smugly waving aside the many ideas fluttering through my brain for blog posts and writing projects, telling myself, “Don’t worry! There’s plenty of time to work on all of these things, plenty. No rush at all.” Oh, was I wrong.

It was as if somebody had suddenly removed the plug in my brain {although I don’t like to think of it being filled with bath water in there, to be honest} and all those beautiful thoughts, carefully constructed metaphors and exciting new characters had drained away.

I’ve not been completely uninspired in the creative writing department this year; excitingly, I’ve actually gone back to writing more of my will-it-ever-be-finished novel {the most recent novel-writing hiatus lasting a mere three years or so}. I am aware though that I haven’t shared quite as many of those candid, reflective posts on the blog as I would have liked. But now, I can feel the writing inspiration returning, with a reminder of what I love to share on The Secret Life of Maggie May, what Maggie May’s readers like to see, and with a whole host of ideas up my sleeve. I hope you’re all ready…