shitty first drafts

I write to escape.

During the past few months, some of you may have observed my silence. Timbu did, and I'm honoured. My silence is indicative of my confinement. My outpouring of words is a plead for help.

Just kidding. I wrote that last part for drama.

The real truth is that I should learn to prioritize better. Writing is good for me, and I should do it more. It's just that other things impede upon my writing time. Lately, the parasite has been work.

For the most part, I like my job. I'd prefer to spend 40-80 hours a week doing something which benefited society, but let's be realistic. Few people are so lucky. I work because preachin' don't pay. And as far as work goes, I have it good. The bathrooms are clean, the people are nice, and my boss understands there is more to life than work.

Maybe because I want to make sure I maintain gainful employment, I've spent much of the past 6 months working during the time I used to spend writing. My wife works hard during the day, - chasing a 2 year old around while carrying another baby is surely more tiring than anything I'll ever do. She usually goes to bed before I do, and lately the norm has resulted in me getting on the computer and working after she went to bed, hence the lack of writing.

I should be clear-this blog isn't my only outlet. Timbu recently reveled one of my secrets-I'm a seminarian. I write lots of papers. And lately, my papers have sucked. (See above for reasons.)

I write because it feels like exorcism. Demons chase my thoughts. Memories haunt my mind. But the soothing process of assembling verbs and nouns into cognizant reflection chases the demons away and causes those haunting memories to be reborn into a beautiful testament of life. Said differently (and less pretentiously), writing is almost as good as drinking. Both make me relax. Alcohol is faster and requires less effort, but writing protects my liver from unnecessary abuse. Usually, I try to double down and do both at the same time.

In Bird by Bird, Anne Lamott writes that the secret to writing is shitty first drafts. Consider this, and all the things you read on this blog, a shitty first draft. The good news is it can only get better. The truth is that even if the writing is shitty, the meaning remains the same.

-the preacher