I haven’t written a blog here in weeks.
The words stopped.
I do three blogs. One is a fun, personal one. One is for Mansfield University. And this one.
I’ve done 208 posts on this blog, a few hundred on my personal one and one a week for the MU Blog which I started last summer.
And without any warning, I crashed. I had no energy to write, and worst of all no interest. No ideas. Nothing to say.
Writing is a way of life. It’s also an addiction. It’s also a way of sharing (or exposing) yourself, your feelings, your ideas, your hopes, dreams and disappointments.
So I’m doing what all addicts do. I’m confessing. “Hi, my name is Dennis and I’m a writer. . . . .”
In the dead zone of non-writing, I read — novels, articles, nonfiction, news, blogs, op-eds– filling the vacuum with the thoughts, ideas, dreams and disappointments of others, seeking a community of intellect and emotions. Most importantly, I guess, is that I’m seeking company.
I’ve found literary inspiration in These Lovely Bones, human inspiration in Temple Grandin’s Animals in Translation, which is giving me insight into animal behavior and autism. I find anger and delight in news articles and reader responses on Huffington Post. I quietly cheer when I watch YouTube clips of Stewart and Colbert. I watch the original Twilight Zone for its blend of a good story with simple, powerful camera work and famous actors at the beginning of their careers. I occasionally listen to Rush until I feel myself wanting to rip out my car seats with my teeth.
I’ve talked about my radio and podcast habits in a previous post.
All things are natural, with their own rhythms. When a well runs dry, you wait patiently for the underground water table to fill it again.
Mine was as dry as dust, but it’s filling again.
I can feel it.
It’s nearly there.