Whether or not you’ve been published, or been published recently, there’s a sense in which all writers should retain an amateur standing. The word amateur can mean anything from one who has a taste for something to a lover of something. It can also mean a dabbler, as opposed to a professional. Regardless of a writer’s status or list of writing credits, all writers ought to remain continual amateurs, as it frees us to always keep learning from others and ourselves.
Rekindle the joy of writing. With the many challenges facing us these days, it’s easy to lose the joy of living let alone writing. But the French have a saying: Eating builds appetite. So, too, writing can stimulate a taste for more. Forget (for now) the deadlines, the self-imposed restrictions and goals. Sit down to the page and begin. If you’re in doubt or stuck for a way to get back into writing, write a journal entry about writing. Ask yourself what first drew you to write, what prompted you to write that first poem or journal entry. Once you begin, you’re writing again, and as you reread what you’ve written, you’ll find that you’ve validated your perspective by putting it into words.
Don’t be afraid to dabble. You don’t have to be a professional writer to enjoy writing. Many writers say they enjoyed writing a lot more before their work moved into the public eye. Sometimes a writer’s underlying fear is that their work won’t measure up—either to what they expect of themselves or what others expect of them. Forget the haters, no matter who they are. Get out your favorite pen or stylus or whatever, and go back to doodling. One way to begin is to go to a window and describe the scene beyond the glass. This is especially helpful now, when a view through glass is the closest many of us can come with the outside world. Writing like this offers a way to get back in touch with that world.
Rediscover the joy of learning. Regardless of your writing status or list of writing credits, all writers are continual amateurs, because we’re always learning from other writers and ourselves. Think back to the first time you felt your pulse race when you read your favorite poet’s or writer’s work, and go back to that piece. See it with fresh eyes. What is it about the work that captivates you? What technique(s) did the writer use to create that effect? How might you emulate the writer’s method(s)? Not only do we learn from other writers, but we also learn from ourselves. Go back and reread something you wrote a while ago. What still moves you about the piece? In what ways have you grown in your writing since then? As a next step, go to something you wrote recently. Where does the piece engage you? Where are the opportunities for development? Either way, you’ve reminded yourself, “Yes, Virginia, I am a writer.”
One way to squeeze the love out of a relationship is to make it more about obligation than enjoyment. This is as true of our relationship with writing as it is of our relationships with other people. After all, one way to define writing is the relationship of the writer to words. And while there are nearly as many reasons to stop loving the craft and art of writing as there are writers, most reasons relate to disappointment or failed expectations (reasonable and otherwise), whether with self, others or the process. Regardless of why the love of writing has ebbed or been lost, one way to rekindle it is to take the pressure off. When in doubt, open a page and lament. At least the words will be there. Regardless of the words, reawaken the pleasure of writing by writing, even in a grousing journal entry well-written.
What’s keeping you from your love of writing?
