daines'n around

"You don't like Christmas music Chris?"

"No. Not really."

"How sad!"

"I know. Just call me Scrooge McDuck."

::long pause::

Another person:

"Did you just say Scrooge McDuck?"

"Yes."

A round of lols was had by all.

"I told them you were a fantastic writer. But then I realized I never read anything you wrote. I stood by what I said, just because you are my friend."

I chortled. Of course you haven't read anything I've written lately. I haven't written anything lately. I appreciate the confidence our friendship brings — but really, is it worth standing by something you don't know?

I will be the first to admit that the writing I have had published doesn't hold a candle to what I'm capable of after years as an editor at the paper. (Odd, that I can refer to it as years now.)

If you know I'm a good writer, say it. It might still be a lie but at least you know it for yourself and could back it up by citing some prose you enjoyed.

But could this person read the prose I would like them to read — even if there isn't any to read?

A point? Yes. A Poynter column addressed this issue today. Inspiration to write comes when you sit to write.

Thinking about writing is much like thinking about running a marathon. You envision yourself chugging along for all 26 miles breaking through ticker tape and feeling the sweat drip off of your forehead. But all the thinking in the world won't get you physically prepared to do such a feat.

So when I'm at work, on the phone or out to dinner and lamenting the fact that I don't write anymore I really have no one to blame but myself. I could make time to write. I should make time to write. One of my favorite pieces I wrote two years ago now really reminds me that I can write when I'm doing it regularly with goals and efforts to make that writing worth reading.

I really should run a little more often.