BLOG-CHOKE

It's with mixed feelings that I link to George Hunka's decision to go on hiatus from blogging to focus on his playwriting - mixed because I'm bummed not to read his thoughts every weekday like I'd gotten used to, but I'm also pleased that his experience with Sustaining invigorated him to take this step. I can't say I'm pleased that there won't be a new essay on Superfluities every week-day morning, but if I had to pick, I'd rather read his next play. And human lives only contain so much time and energy, I know. [As of this writing, it looks like he's planning to post LESS rather than NOT AT ALL.]

As you've probably noticed, this blog is always on hiatus. The funniest part is that I've written a lot less since I lost my job a few months ago. Even though I have far more time to blog, I post less. This is for two reasons. One was that when I was forced to be at work, sitting at my desk with nothing better to do - (for whatever reason, I found I was unable to write plays at my desk at work) - I thought nothing of spending half an hour composing a mini-manifesto on whatever aspect of theater I was obsessing over at the moment. Now that I have all day free, I spend way too much time agonizing over how I'm spending all that free time. If I start to work on a blog entry, I panic, and wonder, "Should I be writing a play right now instead? Should I be doing a mailing? I'm hungry. Is there food? I should be writing something else."

The other reason has to do with some sort of block I'm having about blogging - blog-block, maybe, although I like blog-choke even better. I'll start writing a post, and a little ways in I'll start freaking out and think (and prepare yourself for a big laugh here) "This isn't good enough to post on the internet."

Probably I'll get over this eventually. I got over writer's block once, I can conquer blog-choke.

Comments

[James Comtois]

"Should I be writing a play right now instead? Should I be doing a mailing? I'm hungry. Is there food? I should be writing something else."

Since I just got laid off myself (being once again unemployed after a brief hiatus), I'm often asking that; "Is there food" being the most predominant question.

(Of course, when I get and find food, I think, "Shoulda written a play, you lazy pussy." Ya just can't win.)

Shirking off on his
Jamespeak responsibilities,

James "Wait, I'm
RESPONSIBLE?!" Comtois

[Johnny Knight]

Jeez, I just backtracked a little bit, read this earlier post, and realized you're jobless. I'm so sorry, Mac.

This economy blows. I hate that we're so dependent on these bullshit corporations for our every dime, our every convenience, our every change of underwear. The corporations, in turn, are dependent on the mood swings of a hysterical, selfish populace with an overinflated sense of self-worth.

I had a similar drop in creative productivity when I quit my day job in 2001. (Yes, I'm one of the few foolish souls who voluntarily resigned my job after 9/11.) I thought, hey, now that I'm working freelance, I'll have all kinds of time to write plays.

HA! What a babe in the woods was I.

Of course, every moment I was at home in front of my computer, I had to print pictures or invoice people or update my portfolio or file things. And on the rare occasions when I had no work to do, I was worried that I wouldn't find enough work, and I'd have to go back to my 9 to 5 job.

In many ways, 9 to 5 is a real luxury. When I was employed on a 9 to 5 basis, I left work at the office every afternoon. I planned all day how I was going to use my creative energy when I got home.

For me, a structured schedule is the only way I get off my lazy, TiVo-watching ass and do stuff. A job, a class, a deadline of any kind. I will honor obligations to almost anyone, but I seldom honor obligations to myself. I write my creditors checks; I write my clients invoices; I write myself IOUs.

I once tried getting together with a friend once a week, in the hopes that we'd keep each other on task with our planned writings. "Gotta have pages or I can't show my face for that lunch date!"

Unfortunately, my friend is (like me) an overcommitted procrastinator with a short attention span. Very cool person, don't get me wrong. Our lunch meetings were lovely. Eight months later, however, our plays are still mired in Act One.

Anyone out there bottling impetus? I'm buying...