Imaginary Deadlines and False Expectations

It has been weeks since I last wrote anything. Now, I cannot seem to stop. The craft of writing is strange. Once it gets into one’s, it is difficult to stop. No matter how long I am absent from writing, it always draws me back.

I wonder. If writing is a part of me, then why do I stop, or pause? Do I stop because I have nothing to write? Possibly. Am I so easily distracted? Probably. So then, why the break in writing.

When I first wrote; when I was very young. I write to express my feelings. When I suffered from depression, this intensified my writing – although, the writings were very dark. After the depression state, I gave up writing completely. In hindsight, this is just too bad as I may already be a better writer.

I returned to writing about six years ago: It started with poetry, and then it was writing short stories. Four years ago, I started a Young Adult, Fantasy genre novel.

I started the novel and then I took a year off before picking up where I left off. To be totally honest, I was stuck; however, this did not prevent me from writing other things. On the contrary, writing poetry and short-stories became the norm.

I completed my novel and I self-published it. I was kind of pressured to publish the first book, and I gave in. Some days, I wish I hadn’t given in so easily. With the second book, I am currently working on, I vowed not to give in to easily. I may even attempt to get it published the hard way.

I don’t let imaginary deadlines get to me. I write what I want, when I want. Nor do I give to the pressures of false expectations.

I have a lot on my plate: a full-time job, I have numerous likes and hobbies that I enjoy doing, and I am somewhat a social butterfly. These activities fill my days. They may vary from day to day, and I tend to do some of these activities more than others on any given day; however, this is life, and life is a balance between duty, hobbies, and simple pleasures.
—Robert Confiant 29 January 2017

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