Although I’ve already been doing a great deal of reading this summer, I have yet to pick up a pen, pencil, or clickety clack on any keyboard. I can’t seem to start writing. I have a composition notebook all ready to go. I’ve even clipped out some quotes, pictures, and some interesting newspaper articles to use as inspiration. I’ve told myself countless times that as little as five minutes at a time will do just to get started, and what’s five minutes in a vast summer time-landscape. It’s ridiculous to think how stubborn I’ve been about the whole thing, yet it’s true. I have written nothing.
What is it about writing that causes this?
Well at least today I’ve written “something”. Does it count when you’ve written about writing nothing? I think so. It all depends on what happens tomorrow.