I woke up today
Somedays that’s enough. Somedays being a writer has to be chased.
I had great intentions yesterday, to revamp this blog, to make it more professional, more like the blogs of proper writers. I sat down to start, ready to delete and reinvent.
I stopped. I don’t think I want to do that. One of the gifts of being declared “unfit for work” (there aren’t many, I get them where I can) has been escaping the corporate cloaks I wore. They itched and rumpled and tripped me up. I liked not pretending for a while. That’s a luxury though isn’t it ? Stepping away from the plan. So I feel I have to step back in, seek to be a successful writer, to justify my being here. Like the falling tree in the forest.
What is the goal ? The thing is I’ve never known. I’m often asked what the aim of writing is. So I have to make a goal. But I’ve never been good with goals. I set them, obsess about them. Lose my way and my reason for starting. Of course there has to be a purpose. Of course I know I’m privileged to be doing this. Of course. But I am writing because I want to write. I’ve never been a career chaser. I’ve forced myself into it,crammed my brain full of S.M.A.R.T. targets and plans,tried to harness the competitive spirit (which just turns to bitterness inside me) . I did that for twenty years and despised myself.
I’m not saying it has to be pure art. I’m not under illusions that money doesn’t have to be made (that’s why I spend many hours writing product descriptions of bathroom panels). I’m just not sure if seeking a structured successful writing career is right for me right now. I know I’ll tie myself up in polishing and primping without anything to really polish or primp. I want to be valid. I want to be more than the clichéd middle aged woman writing about trees. But I don’t want to slip in to quirky, brightly coloured clothing that fits as badly as my smart black suit, polish corporate pixie boots and carry important documents in my artisan bag. Getting around is difficult. A half hour car journey leeches energy. I could get to a poetry event, but then I’m so fogged I can’t talk to anyone, and come away feeling even more detached and welded to the edge than before I went. I love hearing about community writing projects. If I could pick any goal for my writing that would be it. Old me has ideas and drive and how things could happen. New me has to constantly consider “what if”. Mostly, I want to write beautifully. And I’m wondering if that is enough.
Only I can decide, I know, but it’s tricky. I’d like your feedback on this, if you’ve got a second. Do you think this blog is too personal ? Should I make it more internet friendly by focusing on the achievements rather than the tricky bits ? Is it any more than a vanity project. Do I want it to be ?