One strange thing about being a writer, and I know I’m definitely not alone in this, is that I have never found writing easy. I honestly don’t like writing. I like having written, but that certainly isn’t the same thing. Rarely do I get any enjoyment from the act of writing, but I’ve learned that I get a lot of satisfaction from producing stuff, so all I really need is the discipline to force myself to write. Like this! Here I go: words words words.

As you may know, I monitor my mood twice a day and keep track of the things I was doing that may or may not have influenced that mood. I’ve been doing that since December, and along with a myriad of other things, I’ve learned that when I don’t write, I get tired. I found that astounding.

Let’s take an implausible hypothetical and say that I’m ahead on my writing. It’s Thursday, and everything I plan on publishing to the blog is already written and ready to go up until the next Thursday. I don’t have a full time job, and weekends are generally pretty open for me, so I could, without consequence, play video games for three days straight.

I’ve learned that if I do that, I get tired. I start to feel like I’m wasting my life and my time. It sucks, because I should feel great about the fact that I’ve written ahead of schedule, but no. If I don’t produce at least 500 words every other day, it actually starts to fatigue me. How strange is that? I don’t even like writing! That great sense of pride I get for doing a thing is so strong that I need to administer it constantly. Now that I think about it, I actually get withdrawals. It’s like an addiction. Weird.

It makes me think back to a few years ago before I had the blog, when I wasn’t forcing myself to write nearly every day. I certainly feel much better about myself now than I do then, but if I stopped writing altogether today, would I go back to the person I was? I think it’s easy to say no, because I’ve grown in more ways than just my writing, but that drive to keep writing is largely responsible for lots of the improvements in my life.

I don’t think I will ever enjoy writing. I’d be lying if I said that didn’t dishearten me a little. But I won’t let that stop me, either. I like having written too much. I can’t actually foresee a future where I’m no longer writing. I used to say my chances of becoming a professional author were 50-50. But even now, if I land a dream job becoming the lead writer for a video game company, and I’m handling the story construction rather than the actual writing, I don’t think that would actually stop me from writing my own personal stories. Nothing will.

It’s impossible to say what the future holds. But I’m relatively certain that whatever else I’m doing, I’ll always be making at least a little time to write.