It’s good to write about some things while they’re fresh—the pain of the breakup, the excitement of an unexpected gift, and the solemnity of loneliness.
Other things take some time to process and mull over, before you can form anything edifying.
The quick writes are the pieces that help a writer’s constitution. It’s like being a short order chef; going quickly from one thing to the next keeps the brain stays oiled and the fingers spry.
The things that take more consideration clog the mind, because even though you’re trying to write, your mind isn’t in it. It’s like trying to write through writers block, only worse because you don’t even care a little bit about what you’re saying. You want to sigh and give up and cry, because everything you’ve ever tried is just NOT WORKING.
And maybe sometimes you do, because writing is impossible. Then it’s sweat pants, ice cream, trusty spoon, and Hallmark movies till spring comes again.
Because after all, maybe no one even cares if you write or not.
But there are bursts of inspiration and thunderclaps of conviction, because, after all, you are a writer. It’s what you were born for, it’s what you love, it’s what you do best. It doesn’t matter if people care or not, because you don’t write for them. You write because without writing, you aren’t you. Without writing, you don’t think, process, and express. Without writing, there’s a void in your soul.
That’s why, even when you can’t afford to share any brain space with the little things, you write anyways. Even if you’re writing about bubble gum, grass clippings, and getting dirt in your eyes, you write anyways.
It’s what makes you a writer.