The Bearded Goose

I’m a writer, who apparently doesn’t like to write.

Seriously! I’ve been calling myself a writer, or potential writer, for years now. Stories have been swimming around in my head, prodding me to put them to paper,¹ but I just can’t/don’t make the time to sit down, call up my trusty text editor,² and get these things jotted down.

I love to make pretense with myself, though. I’ve subscribed to a handful of blogs that talk about writing and blogging. I’ve bookmarked quite a few articles that talk about how to make yourself a better writer and/or blogger. I’ve read books that teach writing principles, written by great authors like Stephen King and Orson Scott Card. For a time, I was in a writing club!³

And I’m not even referring to just writing fiction stories. I don’t take the opportunity to write in any other ways. I don’t blog regularly or consistently, though I took the time to set this one up. I even spend time every couple of months looking for new themes, to get the right feel. I don’t journal, though I know it would help get me into the flow of sharing, writing, and honing my personal voice and style.

I don’t like to write down my goals! Nope, I don’t. Whenever someone talks to me about writing down my life path, making goals, committing something to paper, I balk at it. I shun it. I don’t do it. Years ago, my wife was an employee with FranklinQuest,⁴ and we both took the opportunity to sit in on, I believe, all the offered seminars they held on time management, project management, etc. But when it came time to write down What Matters Most!, I didn’t.

Oh, sure, I may have written down a couple of things during the class, just to show I was participating. But, when it came time to go home and put into practice all the things I learned, I didn’t. I mostly used my fancy new planner as a calendar.

I don’t even like to take notes! Write down a grocery list? What for? I can remember it!⁵ Meeting notes? Nah, I got it. Notes from church? Notes from school? What for?

See, folks? I’m pitiful. “I wanna be a writer.” But, I don’t take the time to write!

Then comes the real question: Why? Why don’t I take the time to do this activity that I profess to wanting so much? Why can’t I discipline myself to sit, close up all the little distractions,⁶ face a blank screen, and let the words flow? What is it that I’m allowing to block me from this future?

Unfortunately, right now, I don’t know. Laziness, sure. It’s work, at least to begin with. Fear? Probably. Fear that I’m wasting my time. Fear that it won’t be “good enough.” Fear that folks won’t care. Is there anything else? Something deeper that I’m just not seeing? Probably, but then, that’s why I’m not seeing it, right?

With everything I’ve ever read on the subject of writing, there’s one thing that every author, blog, book, you-name-it has in common. That every writer has to write!

Now comes the time to set goals, to commit myself, and I’m scared to say: I’m going to write every day, or every week, or a couple times a week… Because I’m afraid to fail.

But, I guess, that’s the point…

1. virtual paper, anyway. My handwriting is illegible. I’ll tell you a story sometime. [↩]
2. Ulysses, if you’re curious [↩]
3. where I did write, but I didn’t write consistently, and I often wrote something really quick during the day of the meeting, so I could take it that night [↩]
4. now merged with Stephen Covey’s company, forming FranklinCovey [↩]
5. Oh, dang it! I forgot the milk. Sorry, honey! I’ll run back out and pick it up… [↩]
6. ie, Facebook, Twitter, video games, books, blogs, news, etc. [↩]