If I had to guess, I average about three false starts to my blog every night. I write the beginning of something and then my internal ref blows the whistle. I take the penalty and delete, only to reset and hope I get the coveted first down that ends in my own proverbial touch-down and a finished blog.
Sometimes my false start is because I am truly not sure what to write. Other times my false start is because I know what I want to write; but I just cannot. And there are times when I have so much swirling around in my head that I cannot figure out how to turn those swirls into words.
I don't know which it is tonight, but I am struggling with the words, friends. And that struggle is hard, because unlike a football team on the field, writing is solidarity. Sure, I can bounce ideas off someone and yes, I can talk it through and sure, I have relationships with editors and other writers that are helpful. But, when it is time to write, it is just me and my keyboard. I have to go at it alone and sometimes, I guess, I am simply not sure where to start or if it is the right start, so I start up in the wrong way, at the wrong time and then I am forced to delete.
I am not always sure I like the writing life because of this alone factor. Even though, anyone who knows me, knows that I am totally fine alone, especially with a book and my thoughts. But, there are different types of alone. Alone to meditate or ideate or daydream or read is one thing. Alone to do the heavy lifting of tasks is something else entirely. Alone when maybe you've felt misunderstood for months is another beast.
Alone when you don't know what to write or how to write it that also an alone that is undesirable--because, well, that alone that reminds you that you have both an empty room and an empty page.