writing

I’ve had a couple of conversations recently about the purpose of writing, and how to write more effectively and more often. This topic is often on my mind because of what I used to term writers block, but which I just now accept as my reality of not totally being a writer anymore. I view it as something that has perhaps passed me by, a different season of life that I am no longer in. I remain hopeful, however (as shown by the fact that this is here and happening!)

So, the conversations. First, I saw a Facebook post by a friend who is an academic and editor, about his own struggles with writing, and his commitment to renewing his own writing habit by simply writing each morning, not for publication or anything, but just for himself and for the act of writing in itself. He admitted in the course of these Facebook posts that, despite his role as an academic (and thus the demand of that job to write and produce things to put out in the world) that he actually hasn’t done that in years. His conclusion, one that rang true with me, is that academic writing killed his love for writing.

This observation was echoed in a separate conversation with a dear friend a few days later. I noted that, despite my struggles with writing, I had gotten a sermon idea and then cranked out an entire sermon in about half an hour. I love sermon writing, something I don’t get to do much, and I am rather proud of what I created, even if I never get the chance to actually preach it. My friend, himself a pastor, noted that that kind of writing – writing for spoken word – is qualitatively different from the kind of writing pseudo-academics like he and I engage most often in, that academic writing my Facebook friend had himself identified as the culprit for his own writers block.

Perhaps, I thought to myself, this kind of free-flowing sermon-style writing – free from constant checks and references with texts and slowed down by the need to cross check every claim – is what I need to engage in, a way of maybe tricking my brain into writing more. Perhaps, when an idea occurs, I can write a “mini-sermon” and later on in the editing process (something I don’t do well at all), turn it into something else. I doubt I can trick my own brain this way.

All of these thoughts stack on top of my on-going anxiety about this blog, its purpose, and how to use it. I started blogging over a decade ago, at the height of blog culture, and at one point, was cranking out 4-5 blog posts a day. The echoes of that remain in my brain, and some unconscious part of me believes that if that is not what I am doing, then I’m not blogging or even writing correctly. I have been able, in the past, to translate this into being ok with posting something once a day. But, at times, even this becomes too much. I have a full-time job that requires a lot of thinking and mental energy every day. I am a dad, and not just in the evenings, but all day, as my three year old goes to work with me every day. All that to say: my brain is working a lot, and the act of trying to not just write every day, but publish every day, is just not realistic. And I feel guilty about that. I feel like I owe my readers something often. I check my traffic numbers too often, and see that if I don’t write regularly, then readers don’t come. Its a vicious circle, and too often, I just throw up my hands and say, screw writing.

But that bug doesn’t go away. I love to write. I read things all the time, and inevitably, one of the writers I read will write about the act of writing, and I am reminded how much I too love that creative process, how much I love writing something and then sharing it with people. It’s not going to go away, and somehow, I have to synthesize that with the fact that I can’t and won’t be writing daily, not even close. I know this about myself, and one of the writers I idolize most, Alan Jacobs, showcases a writing rhythm I want to mimic: he posts when he is struck with inspiration to do so. He never promises regularity. So, sometimes, we’ll get four or five posts in a day from him. Then, we don’t hear from him for a few days, or a week or more. And that is ok, for him, and for me. I need to convince myself to be ok with that. (Looking less at my traffic numbers will help with that.)

In the aforementioned conversation with a friend about writing, one thing I mentioned is that an area where my creative juices get flowing often is (to my chagrin) Facebook. I really like writing a good long Facebook post, riffing off a meme or an image or someone else’s post. I think this is because I do have an audience there, I do get engagement. I’m not really someone who can write into the ether; I thrive on conversation and debate and the back and forth. Facebook is also a more off-the-cuff space, the opposite of the academic-style writing that I feel so often stifles me. My friend suggested that I treat Facebook a little more like a blog, perhaps. I think I am going to do that, and cross post those things to here (something I’ve done numerous times before, to be honest.) I would invite you to follow me on Facebook, but I’ll post here as well.

Thinking more broadly, however, I am now, and always, thinking about how to be a more consistent and inspired writer. I have ideas (lots and lots of ideas). I just can’t quite figure out how to get them out consistently. But I’m working on it. Things will likely come in waves, with bursts of creative energy, and then fallow periods. I have to convince myself to be ok with that. But, I am trying. Part of that trying is nurturing in myself that old writing habit, the one I had before academic writing ruined the process for me, a writing style that is more free flowing and less dependent on references and such. That’s not what a blog is, after all. Ideas are more half-baked and wild here, and that’s ok. That’s ok.

I hope to have an essay up soon about Romans chapter 13. Could come later today. Could come in weeks. I don’t know. Wish me luck.