Warning… this is a very long journal entry… it happens… rarely.
I am writing an epic… which is to say I am writing several poems to form one story. I started it a year or so ago and put it down for a few months. Recently, I picked it up again and wrote several more poems… and then I set it down again the first week of February. Why? Probably boredom or lack of interest. The nice thing about knowing my own mind is that I realize this is just a momentary pause in the process. The bad thing is that I also realize finishing a project is not something I am known for… that is to say, when I finish something, the clouds part, and the choir sings, and the earth trembles because it’s not a common occurrence.
I have a tendency to let outside forces affect my writing. If the ‘fit hits the shan’ in my life, my writing tends to stall or stop all together… mainly because I’m too mad to write. Some people’s writing thrives when things go bad… I tend to clam up. That’s not to say I can’t write… sometimes I do write but it’s usually completely indifferent to what’s happening in my life and when I go back and read it months later, I’m not sure that it was me who wrote it. When I am honest and just let the words flow, it may be obvious to the reader what my inner self is but not all of my poems have anything to do with how I truly feel. Sometimes I’m just writing fiction and sometimes that fiction includes my own experiences or deep feelings… other times I try to tap into feelings I’ve never had (which is difficult).