I don't know how it has happened. One day I was writing fluent letters and paragraphs and the next moment I am cheating on my stories with television junk, sleep, radio and Dr. Pepper. I am not proud of that, nor I want to find an excuse for it. It just as it is. I am a cheater.
My stories and characters have all the right to be mad at me. I have treated them with so little respect over the past few months, that I don't even recognize that labor's fruit. And it wasn't as if it was planned or anything like that -- it was more of a "ok, it's just one time, it's not like they'll notice..." But they do. After months and months of writing nothing but small dialogues they have noticed and now they are not talking to me anymore.
Some may call it a bad case of writer's block, but I know better. The fact that my stories have found out that I have been grotesquely cheated on them with Reality TV only makes it worse! I take them to the same room and promise that I will continue to write them during commercials but I know that during commercials I will be too busy going to the bathroom or changing the channel to notice the blinking light of the computer or the hungry tip of the pen.
I do not know how I allowed it to get this far, to the point in which I no longer can relate to anything I have been writing. All I know is that admitting when you've done something wrong is the first step to recovery. And now, that I have publicly admitted to my cheating, I publicly ask for forgiveness to my stories. I cannot say that I will not do it again, because I know myself far too well to make such promises. But I do want to make commitment to at least give them an hour of my time... and continue with the craft that I so do adore. Creating new worlds, meeting new people... and enjoying the freedom that is writing.
Thank you
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