Writing Identity & Inconsistent Writing
Examining a Cycle of Inaction
My relationship with writing has been in a state of flux over the course of my life; bending and twisting into something new and unrecognizable just when I think I’ve figured it out. The “what, when, and how” morphing into something unknown - sometimes over long periods and other times as quickly as month to month.
The one constant is - the DESIRE to write. The DESIRE to be a writer. The inner knowing that I am a writer - even when I’m not writing.
Since the age of twelve, I’ve spent a great deal of time daydreaming about writing, have identified as a writer, and miraculously enough, have actually spent time writing.
And yet - there is an even greater amount of time that I am not involved in the act of writing. Still, this pesky craving persists regardless of my inability to establish a writing routine.
Over the past year, during which again my pen has fallen silent, I have tried to identify any patterns in my behavior that might help me figure things out.
One thing I have noticed, is during times when I am not engaged in actively writing - I tend to have these “BIG” ideas for long term projects that I most certainly (LIES!) will follow through with "this time.”
For example, just two nights ago, I decided to make a Substack podcast which delivered a tiny tarot card reading/creative pep talk message into subscribers mailbox. I could even work ahead and create batches of content that could be scheduled to drop on the same day each week.
I sat up all night and learned how to add the podcast feature, wrote a variety of scripts, and convinced myself that this endeavor would not only help me to write more consistently, but could potentially help other creatives who simply needed a some encouragement via a mixture of traditional tarot and my neuro-spicy brain.
Oh and while I’m at it - let’s just overhaul my entire Substack page.
Good Grief. (Charlie Brown inflection intended)
The next morning, I awoke to the realization that I have absolutely no interest in actually pursing this grand venture.
Imagine a deflating Garfield balloon from the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade and you will have an accurate depiction of this scene.
This “back to business as usual” switch was particularly annoying because something similar happened just a week earlier. On that occasion, I spent countless hours planning how to divide a different project into 245 weekly blogs. I’m not definitively saying this was a Dark Shadows project - but the show did run for 245 weeks and 2026 will mark its 60th anniversary…
Back to the point - I’m pretty unhappy about my lack of consistency with writing and also the emotional letdown that occurs when “grand” ideas seem less satisfying the next morning.
Also, I should clarify something here - my disinterest the next day is less about thinking the idea isn’t any good, but rather the realization that I don’t have any interest in exerting the “energy” required to bring the project to fruition.
<Enter Editor Loretta>
In reading over that last statement - it appears that it is more comfortable for me to state that I don’t have an “interest” in exerting the energy when the truth is that I’m afraid of not having the energy. This fear isn’t unfounded because I do struggle with chronic pain and fatigue.
I also struggle with my mental health - but who’s counting?
In myy first draft of this piece had several more paragraphs where I detail various reasons to why my brain acts this way and a recap of an insightful conversation I had with my roommate.
But just now, in sitting with the sudden knowing that I am actually dealing with grief - and grief it certainly is - I think sharing the rest of the draft would only dilute what I’ve been trying to convey - even to myself.
The truth is, I don’t consistently have access to the fervor in which I initially conceive, research, and extensively plan these big projects. Thus, they begin to wither when I realize my dreams one again require more stamina then I am capable of giving to them.
In reality, I’m not losing interest in my big ideas - I am mourning them. Grieving for all the things I want to do, while also realizing I don’t know how to do them in a sustainable way. Grieving the life I have always assumed I’d have, only to find that life is STILL out of reach, even at age 46.
The only question left is … what kind of life is possible…and how do I get there?
Hi Loretta 🙌
So happy to see your new post in my inbox. I relate so much—the constant struggle to bring big ideas to life in a world full of distractions and low energy.
What helped me: I started an analog Zettelkasten. It’s perfect for tracking ideas because our important thoughts have underlying themes we revisit again and again. The Zettelkasten helps me spot those recurring topics in my writing/interests, and my hope is that, over time, certain cards turn into essays—and essays into a book. That’s the plan for now, and it’s fun. It lets me focus on smaller ideas (or parts of ideas) without losing the bigger picture.
For me, analog beats digital. I still use Obsidian—but only to keep the texts I want to archive. Analog is less distracting and more tactile—more haptic, if that makes sense.
If you want to explore analog Zettelkasten, check out Kathleen Spracklen’s YouTube channel. She’s a great teacher.
So good to have you back, Loretta.
Hey Loretta. Great to hear from you. A lot of this rang true for me and my (recently discovered) neurodivergence. All those things we have going on, like differently wired brians, trauma, and grief, don't make it easy. X