I asked my friend and writing partner Elizabeth what I should write about. It's not that I have writers' block, it's just that sometimes I don't know what aspect of writing to address. If you're reading this you're probably a writer too. You'll know what I mean.
For a writer, nothing's more important than writing. Few tragedies in life can't be wrestled with by using our avocation. Still, sometimes it's hard to say much about writing. It is. It exists. It is greater than the writer.
Lately my job has been impinging on my writing. I have to spend extra hours every day and all that time spent with work-related activity takes time away from what's really important (writing). I still manage to write some every day, even if it's just fifteen minutes. Even if it's just a blog post.
I recently had a day where I could write for a couple of hours, uninterrupted. It was an amazingly therapeutic experience! Instead of seeing a word count in the tens of words, it registered in the thousands. It's like the words are trapped inside, and all it takes to let them out is time before a keyboard or a stack of paper.
Current work practice, however, is too take as much as possible and, like pirates, give nothing back. I heard a rumor that the president is going to make "exempt" (there's a bit of Orwellian double-think for you!) employees have to be paid for overtime if they make under $50,000 a year. Yours truly has seldom made that much, and, of course, I'm exempt from fair pay.
Employers are fond of saying your job is "whatever it takes." They don't want to pay for it, however. The writer suffers in such circumstances. Our free time is our real life, and it is pressed under that great weight of stones called "work."
So I have had to neglect this little blog for a few weeks while work has taken its pound of flesh. I'm hoping now that the rough spot is over and that I can once again write about writing about writing. It is what I live for. And if you're like me, you'll cheer the human spirit that persists in recording its thoughts, no matter what the bosses say.
For a writer, nothing's more important than writing. Few tragedies in life can't be wrestled with by using our avocation. Still, sometimes it's hard to say much about writing. It is. It exists. It is greater than the writer.
Lately my job has been impinging on my writing. I have to spend extra hours every day and all that time spent with work-related activity takes time away from what's really important (writing). I still manage to write some every day, even if it's just fifteen minutes. Even if it's just a blog post.
I recently had a day where I could write for a couple of hours, uninterrupted. It was an amazingly therapeutic experience! Instead of seeing a word count in the tens of words, it registered in the thousands. It's like the words are trapped inside, and all it takes to let them out is time before a keyboard or a stack of paper.
Current work practice, however, is too take as much as possible and, like pirates, give nothing back. I heard a rumor that the president is going to make "exempt" (there's a bit of Orwellian double-think for you!) employees have to be paid for overtime if they make under $50,000 a year. Yours truly has seldom made that much, and, of course, I'm exempt from fair pay.
Employers are fond of saying your job is "whatever it takes." They don't want to pay for it, however. The writer suffers in such circumstances. Our free time is our real life, and it is pressed under that great weight of stones called "work."
So I have had to neglect this little blog for a few weeks while work has taken its pound of flesh. I'm hoping now that the rough spot is over and that I can once again write about writing about writing. It is what I live for. And if you're like me, you'll cheer the human spirit that persists in recording its thoughts, no matter what the bosses say.
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