I write every day. And it’s hard. It’s hard to make time to write or write to the timeframe you’re given. No matter, they are one and the same. And sometimes what I write can be prolific, inspiring, emotional, or a simple grocery list. Yes, you read that last line and I know you just thought, schmuck, that’s not writing. But, you’re wrong, and I’d bet you’ve never seen my grocery lists.
Sometimes next to that list of eggs, milk and bread flows a thought-provoking poem, or a rant that has to do with shopping, commercialism, material objects – ah, well, you get the picture. Some of those lists I’ve kept—tucked them neatly into my poetry journal to be re-read at another poignant juncture in my life.
Why do I write every day? Well, if I don’t I get cranky. I have many muses rambling around in my head and there are times I honestly feel if I don’t let those voices out, I will go crazy.
I also write every day because when I was in university studying my first literally passion, poetry, a dear professor called Irving Layton gave me permission to do just that. And while I have many delightful stories I could tell about the joys and angst of having every word you write examined by one of Canada’s top-notch poets, those I will share for another time. However, Layton was the first adult in my life who really encouraged me to let those muses free and I’m not sure I’d be the same/sane person I am today without his blessing.
So, I do write every day. I travel with a bulky black purse another writer friend gave me who knew I needed a bag large enough for all my favorite pens (yes I do confess to having a bit of a fetish where pens are concerned) and at least one notebook or journal. I view life as opportunities and lo and behold I should miss any simply because I didn’t have paper or pen at my disposal.
Some of my best poems, short stories and even my latest dark paranormal I am working on began as scribbled notes or outlines either at Starbucks or waiting in the van for the light to turn green.
I also thoroughly enjoy writing rants. Those I tend to write so fast I am quite certain no one could decipher my unique shorthand codes and scribblings. You’re probably asking yourself how is that productive? Well, let me tell you, writing rants has to be the best thing I have discovered in the last five years. Productive? One hundred per cent. First off, no one is judging me but myself and I long ago learned to listen to my inner-ear, smile and tune out the rest. No one is reading my rant and checking all my grammatical mistakes or reading it for content to see if it does make sense. Probably not! But ranting gets all that emotional junk out of the way so that I can really write. Ranting lets me vent my frustration, and then crumple it up and throw it away. I’ve discovered it’s the throwing away part that is key to this liberation. If I kept that rant, I know I’d take it out and try to make sense of it, but that would defeat the purpose. Ranting for me is telling a best friend all your dirty little secrets knowing that person would never betray you.
My best friend is a blank piece of paper. To me there is almost nothing as sacred as the crisp clean feel of a blank page or opening that first page to a new journal. So I write every day. Be it small, medium or large, I write simply because I’ve given myself permission to do so.
Write & Rant away! let me know what you thought of my blog. Check out my website at www.reneefield.com.