Confession of a lazy writer

For a moment I wasn’t sure if I should mention it. If I should make a deal out of it. But here is what’s happening creativity-wise right now.
At the beginning of the month, and for less than a week, I wrote up a storm. I felt the August current rushing through my pen. I didn’t sleep, but I wrote short poem after short poem. As a result, I came up with a total of 75 handwritten poems and two small notebooks filled. All this between July 27th and August 5th. You may say that this is more than a week, but I didn’t write between 28th July and 2nd August.

Anyway, here is my dilemma. I haven’t written any poetry since the beginning of the month, which is quite alright. But I read the flood of words again. And without sounding too conceited, they are good. Well amongst the best I ever wrote. And therein lies the lazy writer’s problem. I could compile the poems and publish them, but I’d need to transcribe them first. And that takes time. Patience and I have never been friends. If I am done with a project I am done and want to get rid of it.

There are apps that help transcribing. I even came as far as putting photos of every poem in a PDF document. Now it so happens that the file is too big. None of the apps is able to help unless I cut the file into tiny bits… which again, you’ve guessed it, takes patience and work. And maybe I am too lazy. Add to that the voice in my head that is very loud and insistent. Telling me that I am not good enough. That I am overestimating myself and my writing. That the world doesn’t need yet another one of my poetry collections. Since the others don’t sell or aren’t read either.

The reason I am writing this after midnight is, in a way, to hold me accountable.
Ah, but please take this post with a pinch of salt and a grain of humour (or is it the other way around?).

This afternoon, I nearly sat down to start my work. But then the battery of my Surface ran out. And it gave me the perfect excuse to waste time elsewhere.
Maybe tomorrow. Let’s see if I prove myself wrong and get this on the road.

Two and a half notebooks filled with a creative outburst.

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