Photo courtesy of darksouls1 on Pixabay

Write, I say, write. As if I’m a witch, or a sorcerer.

I don’t want to write anymore. I don’t want to write. I’m always finding excuses of why I can’t write, only to feel guilty (at the end of the day) that I didn’t write. So, I’m writing.

A month has been a long time; a week has been a long time and too many days in between have lapsed. I can’t find peace, I can’t find time, I can’t make time, although perhaps time is just the crux of the issue I’m dealing with.

Several writers have claimed to deal with this same issue; finding the time to write. Many go on vacation, to find their inner voice to write. (Although the vacation can turn to a really long vacation). Some hire nannies, to take care of the home-life for them (cooking, cleaning, chores, caring for the young/old) while they write. Some have offices (inside or outside the home), where they go to write. Me? I have a desk, where I go to write. The desk is inside my home, near the kitchen, where I have plenty of snacks (which distract me but I don’t have to travel far to fuel my appetite). The problem?

Noise. When the humans are home, the noise is very distracting. Instead of trying to withstand the noise, and write anyway, I don’t write and usually go elsewhere, outside the home. Although, perhaps I should just bring my notebook with me and write while I’m away.

But I would get too distracted; enamored with all the busy people and ways-of-life from passerby’s. Coffee shops/convenience stores? I’ve tried those- Too cold and too many snacks (at my disposal).

I love words; Words that make me think- big words that aren’t in everyday language. You know, the one’s in the thesaurus sitting next to the computer.

Paraphrases, adverbs and conjunctions? I don’t know but if it sounds good, keep writing. Just remember, write how you talk and talk how you write. This would make my life so much simpler!!

What am I?