I have recently joined, if one can call it that, a writer’s guild. It is rather an exalted title for what, in reality, is an eclectic collection of people on Facebook who have agreed to write, to encourage one another in our writing, and to respond with helpful critique to the writings that we offer. For some it is a spur to greater creative activity. For me, it is a discipline I’ve chosen to impose upon myself.
Writing, you see, is not something that comes especially difficult for me. I don’t usually struggle to write, that is, when I decide to write. That decision point is really the challenge.
Give me a topic, any topic, and I can throw together words about it that are coherent and at least mildly entertaining, or at least not devastatingly dull. Call it a gift, the gift of gab, or of know-it-all-ism, I am unsure which would be the better moniker for it. I am sure that I have it.
What I lack, however, is the discipline. The iron will to write something whether I feel to write or not. To compose even on those days and in those moments when I would rather do something else.
Nevertheless, I have committed myself. Perhaps this commitment will aide me. Perhaps it will stir me from the haze of complacent over-thinking of every post and enjoin me to simply write whatever the result may be – whether good or bad.