I want to write. I’ve always wanted to write. When I was little, I wanted to be an author when I grew up. The problem is that as you grow up, things get in the way of what you want to do. I get in the way of what I want to do too- I want to write, but I wonder if maybe I’d do better with a nicer notebook? Wouldn’t I work more effectively with my hair tied up (and yes, it is up as I write this). Even after all the preliminary procrastination, some I just end up not starting, staring at blank screens, deleting sentences…And I know I can’t be alone in this.
The thing is, I’ve no idea if I’m actually any good at writing. I know that I was – but I’ve gone so long without any motivation that I scared to start. While I was very busy not writing, I started watching Sex and the City – and there’s nothing I wouldn’t give to be Carrie Bradshaw. Disregarding the sometimes questionable but always brave fashion choices, Carrie has it all as a writer. Inspiration, a way with words and a popular newspaper column. Of course we can’t all have an endless supply of anecdotes from our interesting friends, and writing isn’t really as effortless as Carrie makes it seem. Maybe somewhere there’s hundreds of outtakes of Sarah-Jessica Parker staring in frustration at a blank screen, hair in a messy bun and three empty bottles of Lucozade at her feet?
I think for everyone out there facing the same problem, the solution really is just to try and write. Write something- anything – and own the haven’t-slept-in-two-days, blood-is-two-thirds-caffeine look. Own it because, for one, you’ll never write anything if you don’t, and because you might lose the passion you once had. I’m only just starting to get mine back, and hopefully it’s here to stay.