Monday, February 2, 2009

Good Medicine

Wow. Talk about slippery slopes. I can't believe I missed five days. To be fair to myself, I did have bronchitis, but that accounts for two of the five, if I am honest with myself. And then I unexpectedly had no computer access for one night, Saturday, but none of this offers any real explanation for the extended vacation so close to my one-year, 365-day landmark. Performance anxiety? Maybe.

The truth is that I have actually been thinking about seven hundred fifty words quite a bit these days. I am still not sure what I am going to do once that one year mark has been reached. I think I set this up as a lifelong enterprise, but--as is so often the case--adjusted my expectations once reality set in and had in the back of my mind a one year goal. Which almost a year ago, based on decades of inability to do almost anything with any consistency, seemed unlikely if not insurmountable.

The problem is that I both love having a blog, and exercising the discipline of writing every single day, and feel oppressed by it, not every day, but some days, days on which I wish so desperately I could simply go to sleep. Am I the better for making myself, as best I can, adhere to my stated mission? Or more relevantly, am I a better writer? Is this endeavor doing what it was meant to do, something else instead, or nothing at all? 

These are the things I am thinking about. It is possible that during my five day hiatus the few readers I had who are not related to me by blood have drifted away quite happily; this is, after all, a crowded field, and I have done nothing to attract or woo readers, as having them was not my original intent. But they have turned out to be quite a bonus, in making me feel accountable and in their often insightful comments and kind support. 

But if I decide to keep going once the year is up, it cannot be about or for anybody else; it will have to be because I have decided that in fact the enterprise is productive, is helpful, is setting wheels in motion, is a net positive for me as a writer. I feel tired writing this, these last few lines, because in writing them I am already starting to see what the answer must be, in some capacity anyway. 

Enough vague soul-searching. Tomorrow, I will write for real. Just wanted to try to explain the siesta. 


8 comments:

Anonymous said...

Amy, I love your blog. And not to make this all about me but I really can't have my one means of being in touch with you slipping away because that might mean our book won't come to fruition. Which I can't bear. This blog stays until our book is highlighted in the CA magazine. I'm glad we've had this little conversation. xo

Anonymous said...

Welcome back Amy... I'm not related to you and I didn't drift away. I missed the blog!!

sheila said...

I don't know about the book mentioned in comments but I see a book in your blog. Your posts about Lily and Annika are so wonderful, so insightful and so evocative and go so well with your vignettes about growing up. I am related to you but I know terrific writing when I see it. I hope you decide to continue so I can get glimpses into your work. And I have forwarded your posts to others who don't even know you.

Anonymous said...

Hi Amy - Your blog is great. I think keeping yourself to a daily writing routine is important and will pay off. That's at least why I started my own blog...

Can't wait to read more!

Anonymous said...

I love the idea of the vignettes. I missed your writing these last few days. It's part of my quiet ritual when I get up in the morning, to see what you have written the previous night. I have no idea about what type of book you envisioned, but your insights into daily life with the girls is priceless to me and I have frequently sent it onto others. Before I write a book myself here, have you back and re-read your last years work? A beautiful commentary on the ordinary moments in life,that we wish away to get our kids to the step in life, are there and there is nothing ordinary about them. Look and see. Colleen

Anonymous said...

Amy, regardless of whether or not you continue, your blog has been a 365 day joy and anyone reading your blog comments knows that I am a tremendous fan. That said the schedule to which you have dedicated yourself for the past year is likely not sustainable and seems like it is leading to burnout. You hint at the answer in your last paragraph. Every job has breaks--weekends, two week vacations, time to energize and refresh. If you are feeling oppressed by the obligation to your blog, give yourself a break—and then engineer a compromise. Reduce the daily requirement, but assign yourself blog days to which you remain committed. Don’t begrudge yourself, or feel guilty for time off in the summer, a week in the fall, a long weekend over President’s Day or even the fact that you don’t write the blog every day. It doesn’t have to be a slippery slope if you remain as faithful to your work on an unwavering, albeit reduced, schedule. Plan time off in advance so that you know it is out there and then make a promise to yourself to write on a Monday, Wednesday and Friday or every other Tuesday or whatever and get on with it. You know that your diligence is helping your writing. You know you are generating ideas from your blog. Sure, it’s hard, but when is life not hard? Stick with it.

Anonymous said...

I don't know liza, but I agree wholeheartedly with her. If you have time to write in the blog do so. If you need the time to do other things, then do them. That you mention bronchitis tells me that your wish just to sleep some nights is your body telling you "SLEEP!" Commitments that compromise your health (mental or physical) are harmful rather than helpful. I admire that you held to your commitment for a year, since I too have been unable to consistently do things for long times, and your having done so is success in itself.

Elizabeth Stark said...

Amy, for my own reasons and not your writing lapse, I drifted a bit, but not far and I am back. I love your blog. It is a touchstone. It makes me feel things and prepares me for parenthood moments still ahead. I am not related to you and I fully agree with Sheila. Your writing talent is formidable and is a gift to your readers. So thank you.