It has been quite a while since the last time I have updated this dear blog-site of mine and I am starting to feel rather guilty if not worried about it. The last time I have posted a blog entry here was last February 10 entitled To Be Published or Not To Be Published: Writing for the Sake of Writing, which is quite ironic because here, I talked about how I love writing and my promise to write, but did not write since then.
Aside from the huge delay, I have also realized that the blog entry of the 10th of February was the only journal entry I have posted for the month of February. This is quite a contradiction with the frequency I have posted last month. Last month, I have had 11 posts in total.
While still in grad school and still at the onset of my research project, I came across this workbook authored by Wendy Laura Belcher entitled ‘Writing Your Journal Article in 12 Weeks: A Guide to Academic Publishing Success’. The title is very catching and captivating especially to those want to pursue academic publication. To borrow the words of Spivak, to be published is something ‘one cannot not want’.
To pursue publication is a very daunting prospect because writing can be a very scary, painful and frustrating process. Yet, the title of the workbook somehow seems to insist that, on the contrary to what one might think, writing a journal article is not only possible but also relatively easy. It does not only guarantee that one can finish a journal article but also Insists that it can be finished on the 12th week.
An empty page is quite intimidating. It is daunting to look at empty, blank, white page whether it be a word document on the screen computer or a piece of actual paper on one’s desk. To paraphrase Fredrich Nietzsche: ‘when you gaze long into an empty page, the empty page will gaze back into you.’ For a couple of days now, I have been staring into a blank empty page and although it is Static, it has a life ad will of it’s own. The empty page can reciprocate the gaze and it does look down at me.
A professional writer I am not and perhaps I will never be. I do not possess the necessary talent, creativity, and discipline to become a published author or to earn a living from the craft of writing. Although writer I am not, writing I love nonetheless. There is nothing more gratifying, at least for me personally, to strike an empty page with words of my own expressing my thoughts however incoherent these thoughts might be.
Staying late in bed is one of my guilty pleasure. What I mean by guilty pleasure, is literally guilty pleasure. That is: I find it quite pleasurable and yet felt guilty right away after doing it. Last week, I made a Brilliant plan for today to wake-up early as 7:00, leave the house at 9:00, be in the library before 11:00, and have a very inspiring and productive day. I was hoping that inspiration would come and visit me today.
When the alarm woke me at 7:00 this morning as instructed, I was having a reassuring dream from which I do not wish to wake-up. I cannot remember the details of my dream, but I was certain that I was in that happy place.