Usually I type these up in Scrivener so that I have an extra chance to proofread before publishing, but I’ve already spent the entire day procrastinating rather than writing. So, as my special treat to my long forgotten readers, I present: Castles In My Room: Raw and Uncut.
To be fair, my procrastination today has taken the form of a pretty productive set of tasks, namely cleaning. It’s funny how when you love to do something, but it’s hard, you find any reason not to do it.
Cleaning? Sign me up. Finding a recipe for chicken finger sauce that I am moderately addicted to? Sure. Watching people argue on Final Fantasy about what type of food pigeons prefer? Of course.
Procrastination hasn’t exactly been to blame for my lack of writing in 2015. I’ve added to my newest project. I’ve edited my oldest one. I’ve even worked a bit on a Star Wars review that might be finished sometime before the next movie comes out…
It might be starting a new career, or a series of upheavals in my personal life that have stopped me from writing as much as I should. But regardless of what caused it, I think my life has been less of something without writing being an part of it. Less reflective, maybe. Less intentional. Less me, somehow.
And I don’t like it.
I wish that in my first post of a New Year, when I’ve left my blog for dead and chased all kinds of butterflies, that I could give some kind of great advice, or an epiphany that came to me in an elaborate dream. I wish I could entertain, or maybe draw people back to my neglected website. I meant to have New Year’s Resolutions even, but I don’t quite have those either. All I know is that I want to write this year.
Writing is kind of a frustrating hobby/lifestyle to have, because I think it takes a lot of intentionality. It’s hard to look at my shiny new PS4, or my overpriced gaming PC with an entire library of Steam games and think, ‘You know what? I’m going to put words on a paper.’
Writing is so easily a thing that you can put off for ‘better’ things. The only issue is, those things aren’t better. They’re instant gratification, and they make your brain happy right then and there, but you leave them feeling hollow. For the most part, they don’t add to my life. They’re fun, they’re superficial, and most of the ‘things’ that pull me away from writing are simply ways to pass the time. That’s all well and good in moderation, but I can’t let time-fillers replace something as valuable as writing.
So that’s where I am with this new year. I’m not quite sure what intentionality with my writing looks like, but concrete goals have hardly kept me accountable in the past. So here’s to a new year with my charmingly vague goal:
I want to write.
What does intentionality look like for you? Sound off in the comments (if any of you are left!).