I wonder how to keep on going. Sometimes I have no problem writing. It just comes. As any writer knows.

What makes one writer different from another? There are those who persevere, who devour the how-to books by well-known authors until they notice that the advice of one authori contradicts another. But these writers stick to it. They will stare down that blank computer screen, grit their teeth and come hell or high water, get those words out! The next day, they sit down at their desk again, edit, stare out the window for inspiration, research the Web for a more apt word, take a break, come back. Day after day after day.

There are those who write only when inspired, which means, they hardly do. Life gets in the way. Work, spouse, kids, laundry. Excuses, you say. Maybe. Who are these people, whose writing moves people to anger, to tears, to frustration but who are lackadaisical about it? Each day comes and goes and they’ll write if they want to or… not. They don’t feel this desperate urge to write. So are they writers, too?

What defines a writer? Passion? Perseverance? Talent? All 3 and then some. I can’t get motivated to stick to a schedule every day. The My 500 Words challenge has helped me to write just that 500 words. Well, not quite. Some are shorter but at least I am writing. Do I enjoy it? When I come up with something that makes someone laugh or cry, then yes, but write for the sake of filling up a page? No. I guess I am in good company. We all struggle to make sense of life, ourselves, relationships. Then we struggle to put that into words, words that will open our hearts to others, show them who we are. Scary!

I can’t identify with people who love Facebook, telling everyone what they are doing, where they are going, what they are feeling. I feel like I have nothing interesting to say .Why should anyone care that I’m doing laundry or going grocery shopping or picking up my son? And what I feel deeply about, I don’t want anyone to know except really close friends. If I shared what’s going on in my heart and mind, I’d feel naked. So why am I on Facebook? So I can see my son’s pictures. He doesn’t post much on his wall but if others put pictures or comments, then I have the joy of seeing them. NO, I’m not being a helicopter mom. I just feel more in touch with him somehow.

That’s what a friend said, “Get on Facebook. That way you get to know what’s happening in my life and I in yous. It’s an easy way to keep in touch.” I don’t know. Does clicking like on a comment or picture make me feel more connected? You must have seen that video about how silly Facebook communication is in real life.

Writers are people, individuals with their own quirks. Some are extroverts and love being read. Isn’t that the whole point? Others are introverts who hesitate to bare their souls but write to get the feeling or thought down. To exorcise them maybe. Writing is good therapy.  But what do you do with what you’ve written when it shows someone in a bad light? Granted, it is your perception of them and the particular situation but is it fair to put them out there, naked and defenseless? There is only one point of view, yours.

Writing is art, craft, and a gun.