So this post is going to get a lot more personal than any of my others. When I started my blog, all I wanted to do on it was review whatever books I’ve read. And then it changed so I spoke about books, entertainment, and now even Bookworm Problems I face. But even with all of that I’ve never really been personal in my posts.
There’s a first time for everything.
I used to love writing.
Back when I was in secondary school, I discovered Wattpad. I wrote some original fiction on there which I absolutely loved doing. Then I discovered fan fictions.
Fan fictions were my favourite things to write. I wrote one based on my favourite book series at the time and around three or four others based on my favourite band at the time. And I loved it.
I used to look forward to getting home from school and writing. I loved the feedback I used to get and I even met one of my closest friends through them.
When I started college, I realised I had to focus on my work more than anything and didn’t write as much. It didn’t bother me too much because I knew I would have to give it up for college and I was sure that as soon as college finished, I would pick up my writing again – both fan fiction and original pieces.
But… that just didn’t happen. I finished college and got more hours at work and I decided that I couldn’t do regular updates any more but I promised myself I wouldn’t give up.
I broke that promise.
A few months later I deleted the Wattpad app, deciding I couldn’t go back to it again. I didn’t have the energy for writing at all around work because I was doing well above my contracted hours at work.
Everything’s changed now. I only work my contracted minimum hours, which has resulted in a lot of things but the one that is important here is that I have time to write. So six months ago, I decided to start again. Not on Wattpad, but in private.
Six months later, and I’m struggling. In that amount of time, I’ve barely written a hundred words. My heart isn’t in it any more and I struggle now to get my ideas down on paper. I can’t concentrate enough and my imagination isn’t good enough any more.
Writing is something that I used to absolutely love. It was my release of everything that I was feeling and I just can’t do that now.
I’m going to keep trying with my writing. I’ve always wanted to be an author and I still want to. But right now, I’m losing hope.
I feel like I’ve forgotten how to write about anything other than experiences from real life and I don’t feel like anyone would want to hear about my string of dodgy and disastrous jobs and lack of a social life.
Right now, I’m just hoping I can get back into writing again. I need that release I used to have.