Beginning is always hardest.
Writing, yoga, walking my dogs on windy, sub-zero days, cooking dinner. Once I start, continuing is easy. It’s getting off the couch that waylays me.
For two years I wrote a blog about metafiction, and then for another two years I wrote a blog about how migraine disease affects my life. I enjoyed writing about these topics, until I felt constrained by them, until they felt like obligations.
Thinking that no one would want to read a highly personal blog about my writing, my obsessions, or my day job, I opted to keep this site static and write separate blogs on specific topics–like all the blogging how-to sites tell you to. But following that advice didn’t bring me joy.
I don’t write for myself. I mean, I do, sometimes. I jot silly notes to myself about stories I’m working on and take out my frustrations with being in constant pain on my journal. But I don’t spend hours and weeks and months perfecting a single short story because it’s fun (although sometimes it can be fun).
I write because I want to connect with people. I want to make people think. I want my stories to reveal truths that can’t be expressed simply.
My words are my gift to the world. I want them to matter.
When I turned twenty-eight this past September, I affirmed two goals I’ve had for a long time, but never expressed well:
- I want to be the kind of person who writes every day. Who is always writing. Who can never get enough of writing.
- I want to live in a space that brings me joy. This means surrounding myself with things I love. It means being neat and organized. It means being as environmentally friendly as possible.
Writing this blog is part of achieving those goals. I want neat, organized digital spaces just as much as I want neat, organized physical spaces. I want my thoughts to have room to wander and land in new territories, to make new connections.
That’s why I decided to take down my former blogs. They were kind of like abandoned houses, slowly rotting. By posting my favorite articles from them, I’m giving them a new life, while simultaneously working on making this space a holistic reflection of who I am as a creator, writer, reader, and person.
Remember: Beginning is always hardest, but we’ve already begun.