Pen to Paper (as it were)

Trey Smith

I think anyone who does a lot of writing -- whether as a profession or a hobby -- understands the ebb and flow of the process. There are times when the words come tumbling out like a cavalcade of rocks and molten lava spewing forth from an active volcano. At other times, however, the words don't seem to flow at all, more closely resembling a dormant volcano.

The writers on this blog are no different. As anyone who has been a regular reader for any length of time can tell, I go through hot and cold periods. There are times when I flood this screen with prose, rants and observations, and other times when I struggle to meet my own self-determined quota of daily posts.

Ta-Wan and Shawn haven't written much this month, but both show signs of writing more. The Baroness hasn't written hardly a thing on this blog so far this year, but that's about to change. Scott, on the other hand, has slowed down in his prodigious output. For the past several months, I've had enough posts of his in the wings to schedule several weeks in advance, but he is no longer sending them to me in the same volume at the same frequency.

But all this is par for the course in the lives of those who write. We're not always in the on position. Almost every writer I know needs time to back away from the printed word to reassess where they are and where they might be headed. We also need time simply to recharge the batteries and to rediscover the passion that motivates us to put pen to paper (as it were).

Speaking strictly for myself, I have noticed a specific dynamic that informs whether or not I am in a writing form of mind. It has less to do with words themselves and more to do with how engaged I feel with world writ large.

In periods like right now, everything I read, observe or experience causes me to think deep thoughts and to reflect on philosophical issues. As I mentioned in a previous post, I have started reading Chinese Thought, from Confucius to Mao Tse-Tung by Herrlee G. Creel. I'm experiencing difficulties making much headway through the book, not because I don't find it interesting and illuminating, but just the opposite!

Almost every paragraph or page causes me to stop to contemplate the information presented and how the point made intersects with the world within me and around me. It is when I enter these periodic contemplative states that my passion to share what I am thinking in print becomes manifest.

There are times, however, when I am not in a contemplate state -- it's something that borders more on brooding. It seems that nothing I read, observe or experience lights a fire within me. It is during these brief snatches of time that I struggle to slap out posts for this blog. Even when I have a good foundational idea for a post, the words look foreign and disjointed.

What interests me the most about this dichotomy is that the stimuli to write is always present. Life itself provides an unending laboratory for the budding writer. Every moment furnishes a limitless menu of topics to contemplate and write about. And so, when a writer encounters the proverbial writer's block, it is not that there is no longer anything to say, but a lack of the passion to say it.