Happy to come third in Sometimes Stellar Storyteller Six Word Story Challenge this week after a long layoff!
After writing quite prolifically (for me anyway!) for the first six months of the year, I suddenly got stupidly busy with work and a cycling challenge, which has since developed into a wonderful hobby, and as a consequence I virtually neglected my writing. I’m terribly prone to procrastination so I need a certain amount of self-discipline and routine in order to get anywhere. It’s damn hard and even once I’ve established a routine, I don’t always find it easy to stick to it. I’m hoping that the dark, cold evenings will be conducive to writing – a period of introversion and solitude is long overdue I think.
Continuing on from my previous post, Writing and Solitude, today I came across an article in The Independent newspaper, entitled Illustrator captures the simple joys of being single, about the work of Idalia Candelas, A Mexico-based illustrator who has drawn a series of sketches of women (‘Postmodern Loneliness’) who very much enjoy being alone.
This whole solitude thing is somewhat preoccupying me at the moment as I know that in order to commit to writing, a substantial amount of my time must be spent alone. This is something that bothers me slightly as I’m single and therefore feel I should be out and about meeting new people, rather than holing myself up inside. However, I have to say that even though I’ve always resisted solitude, it is something that I now actually relish and I feel that these beautiful sketches express the idea that singledom and the natural solitude that comes with it can actually be a lovely thing.
I’ve been fighting it for ages – this whole commitment to writing thing. Up until recently I was merely dabbling in it, sitting on the fence if you like, and the reason why has only just become obvious to me; namely that by taking my writing seriously I would in effect be signing up to a life of solitude and that scared the hell out of me.
It’s weird really as I’ve always been a quiet introvert at heart, yet many people who know me probably don’t realise that. Quiet maybe; introvert, definitely not. This is mainly because I’ve spent the vast majority of my life doing extroverted type things. I’ve travelled extensively and have lived in five different countries. I’ve had numerous hobbies and adventures and am lucky enough to have a wide circle of friends. However, whereas I’d not too long ago be out most nights, what I actually prefer to do now is relax on my sofa with my kitten and write. I don’t want to go out when I could be working on my craft and as a result, I’m starting to see the benefits.
I feel immensely satisfied when I produce something of worth. Of course it doesn’t always happen but it’s becoming more common than it once was and that I believe, is down to the time I spend writing in solitude. I don’t want to become a reclusive hermit but I can also see the necessity of spending time alone in order to achieve. Although it’s terrified me in the past, I believe I’m ready for it now. I don’t think I’ll be happy unless I pursue my dream of becoming a successful writer and spending time alone is essential for that.
I was once almost ashamed to admit I was an introvert who often much preferred staying in alone than going out with friends as it seemed a very uncool thing to do, but I feel different now. Is that to do with age or is it more to do with knowing yourself better (and consequently what makes you happy)? It could be that the two go hand in hand.