Over the past few months, my writing has gone from an interest to an ability. I used to think of post ideas and outline plots throughout the day. I used to keep a list of concepts to develop and theories to explore. I used to want to write. Now I don’t. It’s not that anything happened, I just don’t think about it as much.
I spend more time reading these days. My schedule changed back in October and I have more free time than ever before. But I don’t write, I watch Netflix.
I’ll occasionally think about getting back to it and writing more regularly. The other side of my mind asks “Why?” It’s not like I’m getting paid for it, my audience/community/platform isn’t loud enough to demand more words, if it’s not a passion, then why bother typing into the void?
I’ve written a book and hundreds of posts over the years; I’ve studied fictitious plots, creative nonfiction, and journalistic styles; I’ve tried my hand at 6 word stories and longer narratives. I could continue spinning my wheels, but I don’t think I have anything to write about.
Hopefully in another year I’ll be helping the needy in some capacity. Right now, I’m leaning toward India, Bangladesh, Nepal, or Bolivia. I plan on writing a lot once I have something to write about.