Prolific fiction author Stephen King was asked recently whether he ever tired of writing. His response was prescient, to me, at least: If you stop loving to write, you have stopped loving to live.
I have frequently procrastinated writing even a line or two because 1) I'm too busy or 2) I'm too tired. Too tired to write...too tired to live? Too busy to write...too busy to live?
I do love writing, but I find myself doling emails or my responses, occasionally adding a comment after a Facebook post. After taking the reins on the Friends of the Library book store I was enjoying a series of posts to volunteers during the first seven days of the new year, delineating some of the changes, and adding a link to a library-related site. That was fun.
Without a specific audience, I struggle with typing out my thoughts or describing my activities. I expect no one will read any of what I write in these posts, but there are times when writing would be one of my most therapeutic and relaxing exercises.
