Writing has been my "thing" for a long time now. I love the sound of my keyboard clattering while I hammer away my thoughts, broadcasting it to the world. I love scribbling on my notepad about anything and everything. I would never rate myself as a good writer, but I can string words without making major grammatical blunders. I don't agree with people who call my writing good. I brush them off with sigh and tell them there is always room for improvement and I need to improve. People mistake it for arrogance, but that's just how I'm built. I cannot take a compliment and I absolutely push my self hard to excel.
Over the course of time, I began feeling a slight sense of disorientation every time I had a blank document or a paper in front of me. I couldn't simply get myself to write a sentence without being anxious about how I should continue. Thankfully, my day job does not need me to wax about eloquently. A couple of technical reports, a handful of instructive mails and a bunch of markings on engineering documents is all is needed of me through the week apart from the occasional howler when things go wrong. I get through that comfortably, but the minute I open a document to pen down a review or continue the story I started writing, words fail. My fingers hover over the keyboard hoping words tumble out magically. A million of thoughts zip by and by the time I manage penning some of them down, they are a incoherent mess which needs to be read, re-read and re-written. Desperation sets in and I save my work for the session. I always read thrice and edit like mad before I hit publish, but never have I ever given up in frustration and hit the button. Of late, that seems to be the general way of getting through a piece to be published or mailed. No amount of editing seems to be make me happy. In fact, this very post took me a week to write, edit and re-write. I would have done this in day.
Personally, my life is almost peaceful barring the general feel of mild discontent with various finer aspects of life, just like any other normal human. Being the person that I am, I sat down to contemplate and work on a solution. No amount of introspection helped me arrive at a conclusion on the reason behind this phase. I don't know if it would have helped to speak to my friends.
That's when it struck me that I had become an introvert. I used to have a handful of people around me who used to support me or just be there.I used to love talking to people, hearing their stories, that too in person. Over the time, the handful seems to have dwindled and boiled down to just a couple. Must be the hectic schedule and my day job, I reasoned, but that sounds like a watery excuse to not make that effort to socialize. On the other hand, nor did those people make an effort to come talk to me. It's supposed to be a two way street isn't it? Or may be I'm not really a like- "able" person.
I even considered a social media and general interaction detox. However, I did realize that my story, the things I write, all of it stems from interactions with people. It would be like killing my golden egg laying muse.
What do I really do?
I decided to stop coercing myself into writing for the sake of it. I have short term plans for various features on the blog which are not really writing intensive. I'm planning to wade through my review commitments step by step with a general format in mind.
As far as the creative writing bit is concerned, I'm researching various activities which would help. Also planning to unlearn the language - English - and learn it again with vigor.
Would all the plan work, I wonder!
I do hope all this works! *Fingers Crossed* *No scratch that, hands crossed may be?*
Personally, my life is almost peaceful barring the general feel of mild discontent with various finer aspects of life, just like any other normal human. Being the person that I am, I sat down to contemplate and work on a solution. No amount of introspection helped me arrive at a conclusion on the reason behind this phase. I don't know if it would have helped to speak to my friends.
That's when it struck me that I had become an introvert. I used to have a handful of people around me who used to support me or just be there.I used to love talking to people, hearing their stories, that too in person. Over the time, the handful seems to have dwindled and boiled down to just a couple. Must be the hectic schedule and my day job, I reasoned, but that sounds like a watery excuse to not make that effort to socialize. On the other hand, nor did those people make an effort to come talk to me. It's supposed to be a two way street isn't it? Or may be I'm not really a like- "able" person.
I even considered a social media and general interaction detox. However, I did realize that my story, the things I write, all of it stems from interactions with people. It would be like killing my golden egg laying muse.
What do I really do?
I decided to stop coercing myself into writing for the sake of it. I have short term plans for various features on the blog which are not really writing intensive. I'm planning to wade through my review commitments step by step with a general format in mind.
As far as the creative writing bit is concerned, I'm researching various activities which would help. Also planning to unlearn the language - English - and learn it again with vigor.
Would all the plan work, I wonder!
I do hope all this works! *Fingers Crossed* *No scratch that, hands crossed may be?*
