I don’t know. I don’t know.
I am thinking of not writing this blog anymore. The fact that some readers have told me they enjoy my blog means a lot to me. A lot. But it has never been my first and biggest motivation for writing. I write plays. They take at least two years to write. And then there is a VERY good chance no audience will see it cause not very many plays get produced. Maybe if I were commissioned to write a play I wouldn’t want to write it.
It could be that pressure (yes-of my own doing) of giving myself one hour before work, every Thursday, is taking the joy out of writing this blog. For the first few times it was a dangerous fun. A panic, a thrill. Now its just pressure.
So. Write the blog on my day off. Give myself TIME. Then just post it Thursday. Or post it whenever I want. What’s this weekly thing all about anyway?
Maybe it’s the fact that when I write fiction I feel like I am discovering the characters and their world. But writing this blog….well, I just sort of repeat what’s going on in my head. Not as interesting a process.
Process. I guess that’s what is most important to me. That’s why I am always afraid of getting bored in my chosen processes. (Play writing, boxing). I use to do stand-up. (My process of choice at the time) Just open mics in hamburger joints, but still terrifying. Comics would do the same routine for 2 years-to be sure of getting the laugh. I would try a new routine every week. And when I finally got my first real big laugh, a YEAR into it, I didn’t want to do stand up any more. “Damn. They laughed. The challenge is over.” Plus. Talk about pressure….laugh or no laugh…..
But with writing a play-it somehow still feels endless-in a good way. I SO hope it will, even if it gets produced. Even if people love it. I hope, hope, hope, hope, hope, that writing fiction will always feel endless. So far it has –for 20 years. Then again, I never had to do it under the pressure of a deadline. Oh wait. I have. Once a month, for 6 months I had to write a ten-minute play in 4 days……I’m flustered.
Maybe it’s because I write fiction without ever expecting to be published or produced, but because a blog is OUT in the world-I expect to be noticed. I don’t like that expecting stuff….
Maybe it’s because I don’t know WHY I write this blog anymore. Now that the newness of trying to write what I can in an hour has worn off, and the newness of trying to be honest and open without sounding like a journal has been tested, (Still feels too journal like for my taste…not sure that anything that I write using “I” could feel otherwise.) and the newness of boxing is not as new….maybe the fact that blogs are…..bloggy….
But. I have ALWAYS been very glad to HAVE posted this blog…..But is it a deeper glad than having vacuumed the house? I think so….And I still take notes about my thoughts and happenings-they pile up before every blog posting. So something is motivating me still….
I’m not going to decide anything this week, except to try an write this blog on my day off. See how that feels. Plus. My friend, who I saw every week for 10 years moved away.
At the gym, there was a guy in the ring with his coach. The guy was hitting the mitts as hard as he could, as fast as he could and his coach was yelling at him to say “I WANT THIS!” “I WANT THIS!” Coach said LOUDER-I can’t hear you! “I WANT THIS!” coach said really?! It doesn’t sound like you do! “I WANT THIS!” And the guy was practically fainting from exhaustion, his voice was going out…..I happen to be hitting the heavy bag at the time. Feeling miserable about my jab. And to myself, as I was hitting and hitting I was saying and saying, “My friend left. My friend left. My friend left. My friend left.”
Till next Thursday…..