No matter how hard I try or how long it’s been since I’ve written, I just can’t bring myself to do any creative writing at home. It’s not a recent problem, I’ve realised. In high school, I had the creative writing club and I sat alone at break and lunch so I got my writing done there. I have done some creative writing at home. I’ve written poems and a few short stories and I attempted NANOWRIMO both in 2015 and 2016 but I haven’t written a lot here and writing here was not as fun as I would have liked it to be.
When I started thinking about this I begun to panic. Was the reason I couldn’t write here, eluding to some problem I didn’t even know existed? Was it here that was making me so unhappy? I needed to sort this out.
With ‘By All Means’ and the two short stories I started working on ‘A body in the snow’ and ‘Anywhere but Here’ I was excited to start them and I wanted to finish them. I did manage to finish ‘By All Means’ (and I’ve written about how badly that went before) but I didn’t keep writing either of the short stories. For some reason, the excitement for them died down when I was at my desk and alone in my room writing. So there the problem must lie.
Then all the dots joined together.
When I’m in my own space, a space that I’ve made and designed myself I’m safe but I didn’t start writing or keep writing when I felt comfortable. I started writing to hide from all of the different groups of people around me that I couldn’t be apart of and then again when I found people who I wanted to be friends with and liked writing as I did. Needless to say, I am at my most creative and happiest mindset when I’m writing and I’m being challanged by the world around me. Just like I was/am when surrounded by people who I want to connect with or by people that I know I never will.
I know most writers don’t write like this and this is just another thing that makes me even weirder! It is strange, isn’t it?
At least I can honestly say, my writing has always been my greatest weapon.