Happy New year!
New year new me, right? Ha! No! Though, of course, there are many things I need to improve on but I’m not going to sit here and tell myself a load of crap like…
I’m going to do dry January! When some days the only thing that get me through the day is the knowledge that when our kiddies, in the Northern Hemisphere, are pushing out the Z’s, there is a large glass of vino waiting for me to enjoy in peace.
I’m going to lose weight! Knowing most of my calories comes from wine.
I’m going to be a better person blah blah blah.
I know what I need to do, I need to stay motivated. Can that be a resolution? This year I am going to be motivated! It doesn’t sound right does it?
A big mistake I made over the Christmas period is not write, anything, not a blinking word unless you count:
‘Dear so and so….. Merry Christmas and Happy New year’ in about a dozen cards that don’t usually get sent, then I find them in a draw in March. Oh and the Christmas food shopping list. Actually I wrote a couple of those because I kept losing the bloody things. Therefore the word count over Christmas would probably total about 100 and I score 0 for creativity.
I told myself not to worry and enjoy the festive season. I’ll pick the pen back up when January pops along. It’s all good girl, go and let your hair down. Tink will go back to school and I’ll turn the creative tap back on to full flow and pick up where I left off.
In the words of Julia Roberts in pretty women…Big mistake! Huge!
I read all the time that creativity is like a muscle, use it or lose it. Why I didn’t think this applies to me, I have no idea. Clearly the prosecco infused confidence or the mulled wine glow, danced me into a festive waltz through December; a vision of Gene Kelly dripping with tinsel, gliding across snow covered roof tops and singing let it snow comes to mind. (Did he even sing Let It Snow?)
I discovered this morning that the term use it or lose does apply to me. I opened my note books and study books and discovered with horror I am illiterate. I have no creativity. I can’t write my name let alone finish the short story I’d started before the Christmas dream. I dare not open the files of my novel, who knows what destruction I could cause on my written baby. What harm I could do! I glared at a blank word document realising that for the first time ever there is not a thought in my mind, only the faint whistle as a tumble weed rolls through my inner screen. Hello! Is there anyone there?
My full flowing creative river is not even a trickle at the moment, a dry river bed of half words and thoughts. I now begin the painstaking task of bringing down the dam and promising myself to never put it up again. And there is nothing like an assignment deadline to add strength to writers block!
Wish me luck!