Writing ’til I’m Dead – 4 Signs of Addiction

Do you ever get an idea and think, “Yeah, that is great stuff, I must write it down!”

And then don’t?

Me too.

This always comes back to bite me. A completely game changing idea hits me in the face, I ignore it for five minutes; when I actually go to write it down, the fading warmth of a long gone lover is all that is left.

It’s not a pretty relationship; I’ve been working on it and I think we are making steps toward a healthy, mutually beneficial partnership. Teeny steps, minuscule… It’s a work in progress.

After much reflection, I have strung together a theme I’ve noticed throughout my ‘writing’ life; a collection of characteristics that show how you and I will most definitely be writers for the rest of our lives – in one form or another.


There’s no avoiding this. If I do, the need to experience life to its fullest is not fulfilled.


I started writing when I hit puberty, as a way to deal with all of these new emotions and hormones swirling in my pre-pubescent body, and let’s face it, I was drawn into all the pretty patterns! However, my first few journals are all incomplete, because I would move onto the next one when I thought it was pretty enough.

I didn’t start out looking to be the next Emily Brontë or George RR Martin, the road ahead was going to be a long one; I kept at it, though. When I think back, I don’t know why I kept writing; why I felt it necessary to get all my thoughts and feelings down on paper. To this day, when the going gets tough, I will always put pen to paper.


I love the feeling of a nice nib gliding over paper.


The photo pretty much says it all. It doesn’t matter what is being written in that moment; sometimes writing a load of nonsensical tosh is just what I need.


Seriously, I couldn’t draw to save a bunny.


It’s the only way to really get the creative juices flowing! I can happily write about a robot king and his robot/leaf hybrid queen on the planet of Zapros (alien planets always begin with a Z, right?); however, put me in front of a canvas and threaten to scrape some nails on a chalkboard if I don’t draw something marvelous and you’ll see me curled up in a corner, singing ‘Hail Mary’ to myself.


And that’s all that matters, really.

There’s always going to be dry spells with your pen. Times when you can’t bear to dot your I’s or cross your T’s; it is a hard nib to bear. But ultimately, the pen always comes back into your life, to help you understand the complexity of the mind and its demons.

Those are just some of the signs of addiction for a ‘writing addict’ like me. I haven’t identified them all, as it’s a very long and slow process. Most likely, someone else will have the other signs written down somewhere.


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