Trying to keep a promise

Well, I promised I’d post something yesterday, but events meant that I’m a day late. Sorry, but there is a good reason for this. Namely that I went on the beer Sunday night and didn’t get home ’til Monday afternoon – from there, I had to go straight to work, so I had no time to post.

Actually, maintaining this page is starting to feel a little strenuous this week. Not only am I short of ideas, but circumstances are starting to conspire against me. Firstly, there’s my target number of words. I initially set myself 1000 words per week of creative or critical writing while I didn’t have the time on my hands to write my novel. Now, producing the 500 words plus that my posts involve is starting to encroach on my other writing time. Furthermore, the day is sure to come when I finally can make a gig to review a film for Redbrick – this will take up a good 400 words from my quota. This means I seem to have involved myself in so much that my novel is going to go by the board for a third year. Yet, if I stop writing for the net, bang goes the means by which I’d hoped to keep myself in a disciplined writing routine. Catch 22: keeping myself active begins to defeat the purpose for which I was trying to remain active in the first place. Bugger, eh?

Secondly, I’ve put myself under a yoke that I was hoping to avoid by posting semi-anonymously. Whilst I was only ‘Rob’, with neither face nor surname, I could happily spill my heart out while safe in the knowledge that none of the people I actually knew would be bothered to read this more than once. But now I worry that Rose might actually carry out her threat to read this page. This means that the one thing that is on my mind constantly is the one thing I now can’t write about. At all. Whatsoever. I may be very open and honest with my friends most of the time, but there are some parts of my mind that I don’t discuss willingly and others still that I only let out while I’m safe in the knowledge that I’m unlikely to meet the people who are privy to that knowledge (and that even if I did meet someone who’d read one of my more candid posts, neither they nor myself would realise that we’d shared those 500 words or so of intimacy). So this is why I’m reduced to writing a post about not posting this week. Although this actually counts as last week’s post, now I come to think of it…

I’ll try to write something with a little more joie de vivre next time, but I’m afraid that I’m heading for a dry patch as regards my internet activities. Sure, my desire to write means I still shall, but I don’t guarantee that what I write will be any good…

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~ by Scary Rob on 2 November, 2004.

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