Honest to God, I don’t have writer’s block

Just felt you, and I, needed a break while the hellmouth remains open.

I’ve started many of these. I’ve woke up most days and thought today is it: I’m going to start, middle, finish, reread, press send, get another two or three unsubscribes and maybe a nice email from someone. The latter always cancels out the desertions. Tell a girl you like her earrings if you like her earrings.

I’ve been editing drafts of other projects and enjoying the archaeology. One thing I found I was like ‘who wrote that? I like it.’ Then I realised it was me a few years ago.

But that sort of stuff, that’s for me right now and a handful of test readers in what never turns out to be the near future. Maybe the pretty and ugly as sin birds will fly someday. This sort of stuff? It says my name in the url and on the billboard, but it’s really for you. I remember one of those guides to the Leaving Cert English paper advising on the composition section. PAL it said. Purpose, audience, register.

What do you say to your audience during a global pandemic? Stay safe. Your anxiety doesn’t mean you’re weak. Your calmness doesn’t mean you’re a sociopath. You’re let feel bad about no one inviting you to one of the social distanced, (but honestly are they???) backyard parties. You’re also let feel angry. See above re global pandemic. Buy flowers even if you don’t like them because all this stagnation needs some balancing. Ignore the fact flowers are just murdered plants. Yes, Taylor Swift wrote a whole album – I like the song where she tells her neighbours to fuck off the most – but if you haven’t written a novel in four months before in your inflamed life, it probably wasn’t going to happen this time. It might happen in five more months or thirty more months. If it did happen for you, I’ll say for the record I’m very happy for you. Watch a show on a streaming platform you’re not that invested in so you have some structure to your life. I enjoyed that Cursed show despite knowing it has not enriched my life one iota. Read books you like the sound of. Abandon the ones that taste like those sawdust Scottish oat biscuits you thought would change your life once upon a time. Take short walks, long walks, no walks if your body needs a rest. Lie on a yoga mat and listen to Taylor’s duet with Bon Iver in a room at dusk with the lights not yet turned on.

It’s not that I have nothing to say on the various topics catching fire. I’ve been confident in my opinion that my opinion deserves a microphone since the day I tumbled out my first words. Born to it, reared that way, society’s floor plans make sense for the most part to people like me. But how useful would my words be? Tepid takes. Perhaps instead this month I’ll find you something or two from the past and give it a fresh lick of paint and buy a new lampshade for the corner.

P.S. Isn’t my new logo lovely? It makes me very happy.