Blogging: Inspiration or Perspiration?

And yet another week has passed without me posting a blog.  I have plenty of ideas.  I have dozens of abandoned drafts.  And yet, nothing--bribery, guilt, inspiration or sheer will--seems to propel me toward a finished post.

I tried writing for an hour a day.  That lasted about three days.  Then I compromised with half an hour a day, which lasted, well, less than the allotted half hour.  Too tired, too busy, too uninspired, too frazzled, too much "real" work for clients, too whatever--name your excuse, and I've used it.

My real problem--because let's face it, if I have time to stalk high school boyfriends on Facebook or tweet about cheese dip for an hour every day, I have time to blog--is inspiration.  Maybe it's my free spirited nature, maybe it's my own crazy brand of perfectionism, but I have to feel "inspired" to write.  I have to be "in the moment."  If I start a blog one day, it just doesn't "sing" to me two days later.  Which of course, leads to a string of unfinished drafts and even more pressure, frustration and self-doubt.

How do I break the cycle?  How do I write when I don't "feel" like?  Does writing ever become less of a chore?  Is it always a battle of spirit and will?

Help a girl out.

Shitty First Drafts

As a writer, I’m both lazy and a perfectionist. I don’t want or think I have to devote a lot of time to writing, yet I’m frustrated when the outcome isn’t perfect. Not the best recipe for a

successful blog.

I’ve realized that both the laziness and the perfectionism are born of fear. Of failure. Of disappointment. Of disappearing. Of being misunderstood.

"Writing is not, for us, an art, but breathing." -Anais Nin

I’ve been a writer since my early years, when I scribbled stories in notebooks, poems in the margins of textbooks and entered every essay contest imaginable. I had no fear. I hadn’t learned it yet. Instead, I wrote because I loved it. Because I wanted to. Because I needed to.

As you get older, you learn fear. You learn excuses.

I’ll write more when…

I have more time.

I have a better (or any) blog design.

I get more followers.

I have better ideas.

I’m in the mood.

Which basically means, you’ll never write.

A few weeks ago, I realized that I needed to embrace the fear. So I did what I always do when I need inspiration. I turned to Anne Lamott. She describes the process perfectly. The excuses, the rituals, the bargaining, the terror. And then she introduced me to something powerful: the “shitty first draft.”

I’ve tried everything to circumvent the shitty first draft. Not writing one. Writing and not revising. Writing a draft and abandoning it in frustration. Writing at 2am and blindly praying for the best.

But there’s no avoiding the shitty first draft. It’s part of the process.

And Jon Morrow’s blog a few days ago drove that point home.

Writing is work.  Hard work.  And necessary work.

So, I’m embracing it all—shitty first drafts, the fear, the anxiety, the perfectionism. How about you?

Bird by Bird

It's December 16, and nothing this month has gone according to plan.

I was looking forward to December.  My birthday, my first marathon, my first real vacation of the year.

Instead, I got the flu (on my birthday), missed my first marathon after months of training (again) and spent most of my vacation sick with hives (and watching other people run the marathon).

Needless to say, I've been a little blue.  Maybe a lot blue.  And no amount of peppermint bark or wrapping paper or Christmas music was easing the pain.

At 2 this morning, two weeks deep into my personal pity party, I turned to an old friend.  As I picked up my worn copy of Anne Lamott's Bird by Bird and read the words that inspired its title--"bird by bird, buddy.  Just take it bird by bird," suddenly, the path became clearer.

It's not about the grand plans--the marathon, the business empire, the book I've yet to write--it's about the steps in between.  Getting out of bed.  Running a few miles.  Writing a few paragraphs.  Responding to a few emails.  Connecting with a few friends.  Sharing a few great ideas.  

The rest will come... 

Sound of Silence

I'm not good with silence.  Or stillness.  I'm the girl who nervously figdets during meetings, giggles inappropriately during Christmas services and babbles right through that awkward first kiss.  I can't stop moving, thinking, planning, dreaming.  In the ten minutes since I started writing this blog, I've checked my Twitter feed twice, looked at a friend's photo album on Facebook, read a restaurant review, turned on the iPod and coveted a pair of leopard print heels online. I don't think I need to elaborate on why I rarely drink coffee! 

The one exception to my inability to sit still is my weekly restorative yoga class.  For those magical 90 minutes, I'm able to calm my body and my mind--to relax into the present and just BE.

In a way, writing is like that.  It's an art that requires stillness, mindfullness and discipline.  Qualities I think we could all spend a bit more time cultivating.

Full Disclosure

When I started blogging about two years ago, I chose a pseudonym--partly because it seemed literary and cool, partly to protect my privacy, but mostly because I was a tentative writer--scared to expose the real me to the big, bad virtual world.

So, no surprise that two years have passed, and two pseudonyms and three abandoned blogs later, I'm still using the same crutch.

I initially started this blog as a way to vent my frustrations about the crazed, unglamorous life of a publicist. I wanted a place to talk freely about my annoyances, grievances and failures--anonymously, of course, so as not to incriminate myself or my clients.

I initially shared my blog with a select few--an "easy" audience of very close family and friends. The response was overwhelmingly positive, and so I shared it with a few more people. And they shared it with others. And people kept saying "I thought your name was Laura. What's with this Carrie business?"

And then I realized it was yet another mask, an artificial layer to buffer me from potential criticism or commentary. Which is pretty much the opposite of what blogging--what writing, really--is all about.

As E.B. White wrote, "writing is both the mask and unveiling."

So I, Laura Scholz, am unveiling myself to you and committing myself fully to the words I'm putting out here in cyberland.

c'est moi