I’m starting to get a bit frustrated with my writing environment. Full disclosure: I still live at home. Thus, I’m frequently in contact with my parents, my now-back-at-home twin sister, and my often-visiting brother (with his baby).
Often, as someone that enjoys writing, I well, write. That’s what you’re supposed to do. Sometimes that’s a labor of love and other times I can churn material out in rapid succession. In any event, it’s a time-consuming activity no matter how you look at it between formulating an idea, writing it, researching for it (if applicable), constructing it, conjuring up an enticing hook-of-a-title, the editing process, the reediting process, and so forth.
So, if I am spending a large amount of time locked away in my room with the rhythmically soothing sound of keyboard strokes a-going and the aroma of coffee filtering out, there’s a reason for it.
Granted, I’m not always writing, but even that in and of itself is writing, I think. Not writing is a segue to writing in terms of brainstorming and formulating ideas. Sometimes I need hours to myself to stimulate a writing mentality and so forth; it’s just my process.
Moreover, sometimes I’m engaging in writing’s foundation: reading. I’m consuming articles, books and the like, which either just wet my appetite to read or actually inspire ideas to write about. Again, this is a time-consuming activity.
And yes, sometimes I’m not focused at all on writing or reading and I’m just browsing goofy stuff on reddit, but I digress…
The point is, that I am often lambasted for being lazy, unproductive, antisocial, and a number of things that directly create what I feel at times is a hostile writing environment. A line I often get is, “You’re not doing anything anyways.” No, I’m not doing what you want me to do.
At times, this hostile environment abates my ability to get into a comfort zone and write freely, as it infringes on my mind. Don’t confuse me here. I am not using this as a crutch for procrastination or anything of the sort. I feel it’s a legitimate gripe. I have no issue admitting to at times bending to the will of procrastination. This is different.
There’s two parts here though. On one hand, I am an introvert, so I enjoy being alone, as I enjoy solitude at times. On the other hand, I enjoy solitude at times because I need to write. I’m not antisocial, I don’t dislike people and I am not lazy. Introverts like people; they just don’t like always being around people. And I don’t always like being around people for a number of reasons, but one of them is because I am trying to feed my ever-hungry muse.
Essentially, what this post amounts to is this: let me write and not feel bad about it.