Blogging may be inhibiting my other writing. I find when I sit to blog, my mind gets a sharp focus, and I know that I have to get to the point and be gone in four or five paragraphs. The first to set the scene - who, or what is the topic. Better to state it upfront and early. Don't beat about the bush. This focus is harder to find or just not there, on a blank Microsoft Word page with its infinity of blank space.
By the second paragraph, bring it to life. Is it about me on this hard stool at my kitchen counter. By this time, the chaos of impressions in my head makes me want to get up, drink a cup of tea, check on the dog, put out the garbage, start the laundry - do anything but continue what is a laborious process of sorting, and pulling out threads of thought, looking at them, discarding this one, testing that one, deleting and putting down something that might get me to the next paragraph.
It's not easy. But I have managed to keep my butt on the seat, and my fingers on the key board. Maybe now I can relax a bit. Breathe. Review what I have. Should I save as draft here, to come back later? Come back later - this virtual world can disappear in an instant like the five perfect paragraphs written two days ago that just were not there when I returned. Oops, something bad has happened was the response of the Blogger Team! Indeed.
It is at this point that what I call the "matrix thing" starts to happen. The parallel stories in my head start lining up. I see the patterns un-worded and chaotic though they are. This could actually become a series. I would call this one, Writing about writing.
Except that writing about writing is like trying to describe the dirt in your own bellybutton. No one is particularly interested. Better to talk about the people and places to whom many more persons have connections. Steve Jobs and his insightful advice - how would you live this day as if it were your last.
Which is about what you are doing, want to do, or have to do, but especially about the quality of that doing. Living today is the hardest thing you have to do. And also the most joyful.
Living to die removes fear, cuts you to your centre, gives focus and purpose, lights you up from inside. It's ten years since my first death ... But that's another story!