The Ballad of a Writer Who is Not Writing

(Er, if you're not really interested in reading about my not writing, you could read this riveting post instead. Just a thought. Proceed.)

I am resisting writing lately. What's up with that?

Let me just say I make it a practice to never write about writing. Well, I've probably done it once or twice but don't want to make that mistake again. It's freakin' boring. But what about writing about not writing? Ummm, I'm guessing that's even more boring. But here I am.

I enjoy a list, however, so I will put my ruminations into list form, just for fun. Whoopee.

1. I have writer's block. Except there's no such thing as writer's block. Either you choose to write or you don't. Something will come out if you sit down to write. It always does. Like this for example, though it's not so impressive thus far. Moving on . . .

2. I am rebelling against myself. Or something.

3. I am harboring writer envy. In a half-assed attempt to "inspire" myself I am reading various print materials (short story compilations, quick read crime fiction, the writings of the Dalai Lama -- I am nothing if not eclectic), as well as a various random blogs. Instead of inspiration however, I am feeling small. Very small. And since I'm spending so much time reading, who has time to write? That would be Excuse #324. I'm keeping a list of those as well. Also very time-consuming.

4. I am writing this in order to force myself to write. It's not going very well so far. I'm sorry you've been caught in the middle here. You should scroll around and read something else, quickly. That's what I would do.

5. What do you call a writer who doesn't write? In my case, a substitute teacher . . .

Oh, that image has nothing to do with this post -- I did a search for images on "not writing" and that was on the first page. Being too lazy to look further, I used it. I got it from a blog called "Letters from Kamp Krusty", by the way. He, in fact, does seem to be writing.