Monday, 15 December, 2014
To call yourself a writer, you don’t need to be published. You don’t need a qualification. You don’t need to have been writing a long time. The only thing you need to do to call yourself a writer is write. And yet…sometimes that’s easier said than done. On those days when you know you should spend time on your work-in-progress but can’t muster the motivation to sit down and actually write, your willpower may need a helping hand. There to offer said hand is a little bit of psychology. Here’s one simple way you can conserve your waning willpower and get yourself writing on days when you feel like anything but.
The first thing to understand is that self-control—being able to deny your impulses and say no to temptation—is not a limitless resource. If you do something that requires a fair bit of willpower, like coaxing yourself into going to the gym or spending a full day at work or school, then you’ll have less available to will yourself to write. So, if you can’t just cut out activities aside from writing that require a lot of self-control, what can you do to make sure you have enough willpower for writing?
Friday, 21 November, 2014
#DailyWings: “The best thing to hold onto in life is each other.” -Audrey Hepburn
A couple years ago, when I went home for holiday break, I came across a paperback literary magazine while rummaging through my sister’s old things one night. (I know what you must be thinking: “Oooh, you were snooping around!” I totally wasn’t! Well, sort of. I was browsing her closet for clothes to wear. ;))
The literary magazine was from our middle school, Edward Devotion in Boston. Both my sister, who’s five years older, and I have always loved to write, so it didn’t shock me when I saw her name in the table of contents juxtaposed with the name of a poem, Bubbles. I opened the magazine and flipped to the page that contained her poem. It was a cute rhyme about helping a toddler with dumpling-soft skin take a bath, popping bubbles and exchanging dimple smiles.
I almost fell off the bed when I realized the poem was about me.
An instant wave of nostalgia washed over me like it always does whenever I go through faded yearbooks and picture albums and other tokens of our childhood (I like to do this often, just to remind myself about the other two decades of my life that have already passed me by). Although I couldn’t recall that particular memory of taking a bath, it was easy to remember my little Brandeis blue bath tub meant for small children and the checkered tile bathroom floor. The way my sister shampooed my hair until it stood on the ends.
Wednesday, 26 September, 2012
#DailyWings: “Peace again! – The exquisite hour before dawn, here at my old desk–seldom have I realized so keenly, appreciated so fully, these still, dark hours.”
– Edward Weston
I have always seen this blog as a window into my thoughts and my life, but lately I’ve kept that window closed. It’s been nearly two weeks since my last post, and clicking on “New Post” today was like getting my teeth cleaned and realizing I needed a filling. I finally had to face the neglect my blog has received, but now that I am typing away again, I find myself sighing with relief. Starting is always the hardest part.
In general, I haven’t been writing lately. It’s weird how you can love something so much that you’re scared to touch or even go near it. Even after two years of blogging, it still takes effort to open this window into who I am, to set aside my fears and actually write stuff that means something to me.
I sometimes tell people that I can’t live without writing, and before it seemed to come out as an exaggerated joke – but I’m beginning to think it’s true. These last few weeks have been tough. Lonely. Chock-full of mistakes and regrets. And busy… so terribly busy. I’m surprised I actually survived last week, when every hour was filled with this meeting or that class, and food and sleep were only distant things that existed outside my bubble. My journal was MIA, and the only writing I did consisted of interview transcriptions and class notes and feature stories. Looking back now, not doing any writing for myself was a mistake.