This happens whenever I get busy. Just at the time that I have the most actual stuff that people might want to hear about (I'm writing another novel, I'm doing Big Things at work, I'm gearing up for the coming holidays), I am least inclined to talk about it all. I think to myself "I have five minutes to spare - I can either work on [name one of my zillion projects here] or I can write about something I've already completed. And who really wants to hear about my cleaning out my garage [or making chicken coop improvements or finessing my plot or creating a newer, better website] anyway?"
So, the reality is that when I'm writing least, it's because I'm doing the most. This month, I'm finishing one novel and starting another. That's huge to me, because I have high hopes for both of them.
The irony is that I am still keeping up with reading my friends' blogs and occasionally checking out Twitter or Facebook, so obviously it's not that I'm not interested in other people's quotidian lives. It's the introvert in me saying "I'm not that important. I'm not that interesting. And I'm really, really busy."
Even at this very second, I'm having to fight not to erase this entire post. So, if it has spelling errors, it's because I didn't dare proofread before hitting "publish," or I'd just chuck the whole thing.
Monday, November 03, 2008
Say It vs. Show It
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