I wrote an article.
Well, I did not publish the article in question, but I wrote it.
And I hated it.
I won’t tell you what it was supposed to be about, because that isn’t the point, but I will tell you why I hated it.
I was writing it because I thought I had to. It had been a while, I hadn’t been producing content, and I hadn’t written. Therefore, this article had to be written, and there was nothing I could do about it. That’s what I hated about it.
I had started writing this article after two months of not writing anything. And I mean anything. My WIP was not touched in these two months. I wasn’t writing articles as frequently as I had been, since I wasn’t writing them at all, and I had not so much as written a note on my phone.
I referred to this as a “break.”
When asked what I was working on, I would tell people, “Oh, I’m on a bit of a writing break.”
Which was true, technically. I was on a break. But this was not voluntary, I’d say. This was a struggle.
I had never experienced writer’s block. I think sometimes you get stuck, and it can be tougher than other times to move on, but I was never sure about the realness of writer’s block.
Writer’s block punched me right in the face these last two months, and it showed me no mercy when I pleaded with it to stop.
I don’t quite know what happened, since I’ve never been in a place where I felt entirely over writing.
I didn’t want to do it. I didn’t care what that meant for my earnings or for my sanity, but I didn’t want to write. And it’s a little bit harder to be a writer when you aren’t writing.
Of course, the title of “writer” is not immediately stripped away the moment you cease writing, but that’s what it felt like. That I had stopped writing, that I had run out of creative ideas, that I had no motivation, and I was no longer a writer.
Which is, for the most part, dramatic.
It wasn’t a long time. It wasn’t a deep, dark, depressing time for me or anything, either. I just didn’t want to write.
I was burned out. Which, I suppose, I should’ve known would happen sooner or later. There would come a time where I needed a break.
Upon realizing this, I decided to take full advantage of my break.
I tried some older hobbies of mine. I focused more on school. I didn’t even think about my WIP or writing an article. I let everything I had sit, knowing I’d be able to come back to it with fresh eyes.
And that worked wonders.
The minute I cracked open my WIP, ready to write again, the ideas just kept coming. Dialogue was smooth and realistic. Transitions made sense, and scenes went together well.
I, of course, had never lost my title of “writer.” If you write, you’re a writer. Simple as that.
And I’d learned that it’s okay to not write every day. Hell, I’ve written an article on how you can write every day, but clearly I’m not following my own advice, and I don’t need to. Neither do you. Rules are meant to be broken.
Nothing is law when it comes to writing; that’s what makes it so special. There are no rules! Take a break! Finish your project then start over! Take two breaks! Unleash hell!
My point is that you can always benefit from most of the things you do. I didn’t plan on benefiting from my “break,” but I did, and I’m grateful. My writing was waiting for me the whole time, and my status of “writer” had never been taken away. Sometimes you just have to step back and try to see the whole picture.