Inspiration ...

Nov 27, 2007 - 14:25 PM PST

I say I'm a writer.

It's strange, because the sentences form in my head - all these grammatically-brilliant & intoxicatingly interesting phrases - but seem to vanish into thin air the second I get my laptop on, or my pen and paper out. The second I have the means to save them from being mere fleeting thoughts, they disappear. Forever.

It's strange, because I haven't yet mastered the art of drinking, and I don't think I will in the near future. I don't like alcohol. And writers drink, don't they? Wine, beer, vodka. Who am I kidding with my glass of apple juice? Or more recently, water?

It's strange, because the only time I get inspired is when things go wrong. The thing we call Life - the thing we acknowledge only when the going gets tough? That. A famous quote, by an unfamous author (me): Rough times are the price I pay for inspiration.

One of the best things I've ever been told in my life is that I use words well. A player of words. I'm not that eloquent - at least, I don't think I am. But I am manipulative. I mould words and shape them into paragraphs, into meanings.

If this is what writing is about, then I am a writer. But what of those times when I am not inspired? (And try as I might, no words - let alone the optimum ones - come)Solution: blame it on writer's block. Should I? Would you?

A friend said consistency is the key. Not living my writing the way I live my life - not depending on highs and lows, on muses and this thing we call inspiration.

I don't like consistency. I think it scares me. So I'm going to avoid it, and blame life instead.

Strange and weird and cruel and awkward and tragic life. Beautiful life.