The Writer Writes

The writer doesn’t always publish

Hi guys, I’ve been writing! I swear! You, too? Lordy, I hope so. A word here, a word there. Pretty soon we’ve molded them into something usable. But what if we’re not ready to publish them? What if we don’t want to publish them? Are they still art? Is our only worth in what we publish?

You know I’m going to say ‘no’. I know you know because you’ve seen me in action. I don’t know how many times I have to try to buckle down to some hint of a schedule before I finally get it that it’s not going to happen.

I love to write and I love it best when there’s no pressure, no rules, no expectations. Or maybe on some days I love it best when the pressure’s on and I manage to get it right. Yay! All that work and I’m finally finished. And it’s not bad! But whichever it is, it’s my choice. It’s my baby and I get to decide when I want to show the world what I’ve produced. And if I don’t publish, it’s okay. I’m still writing.

If you’ve been writing long enough, you know you’re never not writing. It’s pouring out of you, even when you’re not ready for it, and then you’re madly scrambling for a pen and paper or the Notes app on your phone before you forget that mighty gem formed out of nowhere, which, if you do say so yourself, is a thing of beauty. A masterpiece. My god! Thank you, thank you, O muse or deity or brain…