There is nothing I wish to write about this evening.
I don’t feel inspired to spout forth on any topic and, even if there was something I wanted to say, I don’t really feel like saying it.
Nights like these always make me feel like a failure as a writer.
A real writer always has something to say. A real writer is excited to put their thoughts down on paper, no matter what.
They are never too tired to write. They never say, “I don’t feel like writing.”
But sometimes I don’t feel like it so obviously I am not a real writer.
I also refrain from hurting people’s feeling when I write. Or engaging them in an argument.
Just people I know, that is. I don’t have any qualms about disagreeing with people who would never read this blog. Celebrities or anonymous website creators or famous authors.
But if I know someone reads my blog, even just every once in a while, I would never call them out.
I wouldn’t write a post about how annoying someone is on Facebook because all they post are stupid inspirational sayings or dumb cartoons.
I wouldn’t recount a conversation that makes a friend look like a complete idiot, even if they are a complete idiot.
A real writer wouldn’t pull any punches. A real writer would just say it, consequences be damned.
They wouldn’t shy away from a fight. They wouldn’t worry about pissing someone off.
I don’t want to make someone angry so obviously I’m not a real writer.
But, on the other hand, I spent the weekend reducing my novel into sticky notes so I could identify the narrative arc.
That’s something only a real writer would do, right?