When I started blogging I assumed I’d end up giving it up pretty quickly. While that hasn’t happened (yet!), this last week has reminded me how easy it is to let writing slip when your real life intervenes.
I’ve had a mental week, some things have been good, some things bad and some just stressful. This has meant that I’ve had little time for writing, and of course the fact that I’ve been failing to meet my internal daily/weekly goals has been making me feel even worse.
However, the experience has lefty me feeling rather contemplative, and not just because I’ll take any excuse for a day dream. The question I’ve been pondering is: without a few madcap weeks every now and then, would I be a lot worse off for material? Nothing I write is biographical, and I never transpose real life experiences straight into fiction, but without that kind of frantic inspiration actual bad experiences give you I have a suspicion the creative process would be that much harder.
Therefore, real life must be a writer’s best friend, as well as their worst. Without the world kicking me in the teeth or providing me with good news that sometimes almost defies belief every now and then, I could easily become complacent and fail to capture things as I actually see them – instead relying on flimsy imaginary constructions. The only problem is trying to keep real life at bay long enough to scribble the thoughts down! Hopefully the coming weeks will give me the opportunity to do just that.