It's been a quiet season, this period in my life defined by illness--both my own and that of my parents--and writing about anything has been a challenge. Words prove slippery, elusive, hard to grasp. I want to hibernate--to drink endless cups of fancy tea, binge watch Netflix, wrap myself in blankets and shut everything out. My dad passed away in November. His last few weeks were awful.
As a part of reclaiming the life I loved before everything got hella complicated, I decided to challenge myself to make writing part of my daily practice again this year.
The last four years have been an emotional shitstorm. I've spent more time Not Writing than Writing. Hopefully, the hiatus will be over this year. I'm ready to get back to it. But...where to begin?
One of my goals is to read more, and to write more book reviews. It's a good starting place: to immerse yourself the work of others and support your peers by buying their books and sharing what you love about their work.
I'm happy to see so many writers (myself included) getting back to their personal blogs, too. I find there's a depth to these blog entries that's lacking on social media.
I'm feeling ready to write, edit, and submit work again.
I'm grateful to my wonderful writer's group (shout out to No Crying in Poetry!) for keeping me from walking away from writing during this last, difficult year.
I've missed it all so much.
Dearest Darling Self,
Welcome back to reading and writing.
Welcome back to blogging and connecting.
Welcome back to submission anxiety and rejection. ( It will be okay. I promise.)
Welcome back to poetry.
Welcome back to flash fiction and essay writing.
Welcome back to blurbs and reviews.
Welcome to a whole new season of being a writer. It might be very different from your previous experience. Your voice has changed. Your writing has changed. This is to be expected.
Everything is going to be fine.
poetry and careerism revisited
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