Putting pen to paper

I just finished a quick and encouraging article entitled Thirteen Tips for Actually Getting Some Writing Done compiled by the author of The Happiness Project. As an English-Creative Writing major in college, you would think that I just love writing. Oh, yes, you would think that.

I'm not sure what my problem is (okay, so I know...I'm lazy), but I rarely write unless I have some kind of overwhelming inspiration, usually spurred by an emotional event. I grew up straddling the generation that wrote with an ink pen in hand and the generation that composed on the computer screen. I am now probably more comfortable composing on the screen, finding that the callous on the middle finger of my right hand has significantly diminished in the past few years from lack of longhand, and that I cramp up just writing a grocery list but can tap away on a keyboard for hours.

I used to journal the events of my life every single day, keeping a detailed, if mundane, record of my goings on. I am now lucky to force myself to write out a life update once a month, which makes me sad, but apparently not sad enough to actually set aside five minutes to write. My journal lays next to my bed, neglected, silently mocking my feigned ignorance. I suppose what I do each week on this blog should be considered writing (drrr...), but I suppose I classify writing as something more creative, interesting, exciting. Short stories, poetry, long pieces, these are what I fail to put real time into.

Oh, help me, Happiness Project. Hold a gun to my head and make me write again.