I used to write all the time.
Often my friends ask me why I’ve stopped writing… I don’t really have a great answer aside from “I don’t have anything to say right now”.
This year hasn’t been a good year for many people, putting it mildly, but, for me at least, it has been so much better than the previous one in an overwhelming way. 2019 was the year of mental health challenges, difficulties at home and challenging times in my professional life. I lost friends and self esteem and I made a lot of mistakes. I am happy that I don’t have a lot to write about, in that sense.
I find myself struggling to come up with other topics to write about though. Do I write about the difficulties and joys in having a threenager at home? Should I write about how happy and settled I am? How lovely and ordinary my life is? I’m not sure people would like to read all of that, given the state of the world at the moment.
And so, I haven’t written anything in a long time.
I do a lot of other things instead. I colour, I play video games and watch movies with my family. I’ve become a decent cook and baker, if I do say so myself! I go on walks and sing and dance and act silly with my little girl and I try to put the last year behind me, as hard as that is.
My friend Ann asked me why I don’t try and write some fiction for NaNoWriMo, maybe I will have better luck with fiction because right now, my life is boring, and I couldn’t be happier about that.