I have looked upon this screen for what seems like hours as I am continuously distracted from actually typing things out. The words have circulated in my mind so much that my subconsciousness has lapped itself like my last attempt at playing Mario Kart with a busted controller (always blame the controller). It seems like months since the last time I have actually written anything in this blog. It’s not that my life has not had moments worth sharing on the intellectual or emotional fronts but rather that the act of committing this moment to this digital archive did not feel like a priority. As my own writing shifts between the endless cycles of writer’s block and all nighters for an eventual dissertation defense, the blog fell to the wayside. The irony became more palpable as I would tell students to go through here and check on some of the more worthy posts while still checking the stats to see if any errant Google searches would bring a momentary reader my way. It was passive and one of the best pieces of advice you can get in being a better writer or anything is to never be passive.
And so I restart my writing on the blog, maybe never reaching the ambitious goal of midnight writing on a near nightly rate but existent nonetheless. It’s not exactly a reboot of the mission to share my thoughts on serialization with the occasional personal stuff and some weird fanfiction posts. And so, I want to write on what is it that gets us started once again. At any moment, what feels like second nature will somehow lose it’s mark on our identity. Life gets in the way and some activities just sort of get lost in the scheduling. With new chapters in life, the old stuff no longer becomes the primary. Hobbies, traditions, even friends get shuffled to the bottom of the deck and are almost forgotten. But it’s still there…
We as people are always changing. We like to think that we become better, that our immaturity is immolated, our naivete enlightened, and maybe our selfishness stifled out. But the essences are still there and our guard never really drops for fear that our old selves arise from depths unknown like lovecraftian monsters. I like to think that the same situation exists within our good spots. That the jaded romantic can give out a rose, the exhausted runner can pound the pavement, the out of practice musician can play a favorite tune, the uninspired painter can give life to the canvas, and that the silent writer can make words mean more that what the dictionary spells out for us. These instincts may be buried but can be unearthed with just the right inspiration and the will to try once again.
My own inspiration to restart and continue came in two facets. The first with one of my favorite writers of all things geeky, super nerd Max Landis. The man is talented and prolific in making scripts for some very original material alongside the reworks and sequels that may never make it to the screen. One of his most recent videos tackles the problem of the blank page, a fear that terrorizes me and pretty much everyone else that is writing for something. And yet Max takes that fear and turns it on his head, that maybe if you can’t conquer the empty screen then maybe being a writer is not for you. Full video here:
I took it as a challenge to no longer let the fear of the unknown or of that failure keep me from starting once again. One more inspiration came with another blog that a friend pointed my way not so long ago. It is raw and emotional while still being poetic. It serves as a journal that lets you peek into someone else’s life not as a voyeur or an NSA specialist but rather as a frame shot of life. Not necessarily told narratively but as snap shots in an old school collage. I recently reblogged one of the first entries but if you want to check out the whole blog then head here.
Well that seems like a good first step. Let’s see where the journey takes us.