Somewhere along the way, I found myself lost. The writer within me became lost amid papers, pens, whiteout, books and pencil shavings. Prioritizing work, I’ve been neglecting my pleasure writing and this blog. No wonder my writing for work seems so taxing; no wonder I cringe when someone asks me how my writing is coming along.
I’ve taken a break from being a writer and am now instead someone who merely writes. There is a difference, and writers who do so for a living will know what I mean.
I must find time to blog again, to write for myself again. I’m even lost on blog topics. I’ll find sources for inspiration surely, now that I’m looking, but I’m not opposed to suggestions.
Just a few sentences. That’s a start.
I’ll be back.