I like to call myself a fiction writer, but recently I haven’t been writing much. I’ve always said that I’ve used writing as a coping mechanism, a way to deal with being lonely, and to put myself in to situations I could only dream about. There have been times I’ve felt so lonely, the only way I could deal with it was by losing myself in a story. I used to call in drowning myself in fiction, but what happens when I don’t need to drown anymore?
Lately, things in my life have been changing. I’ve been hanging out more, spending more time with friends, actually having fun with real people and not characters. And because of that, I haven’t been writing. I’ve tried, but it doesn’t come as easily. I don’t know what that means, because I really do miss writing. I think about my characters and stories a lot, telling myself that I need to write, and I just don’t do it. I’m not sure if it’s because I’m thinking about other things, or if my own life has become more interesting than the lives of my characters.
This scares me, because I still love to write, writing still defines so much of who I am. It’s got me through some hard times. I’ve written novels and created characters that I’m so proud of, but I don’t think I have the passion for it right now. I may be one of those artists who can only create when life sucks, and when things are going well, nothing happens. I want to be happy, it’s great to hang out with real people and not feel so down all the time, but I want to be able to write at the same time.
This has happened to me before, this flash of happiness, and it’s always short lived. Maybe I should just appreciate what I have now, and when it ends, and it will end, then I could write again. Or maybe I could find a middle ground where I can hang out with real people and still be invested in the lives of my characters.
Any writers out there who experience this? Maybe it’s just me.