Shambling corpses and writing about writing

There’s nothing like being declared dead to get you off your ass.

A little more than a week ago, I got a notification on Twitter — somewhere I spend way too much time doing not much. It came as a surprise, I’ll tell you that.

I’d never heard of Zombie Cat Bacon before, but they’d apparently heard of me. Not only that, they’d noticed I hadn’t written anything on this blog in a long, long time. About a year and three months, to be exact. Did I mention I spend way too much time on Twitter (and Facebook)?

I have to admit, it stung. I’ve always considered myself a writer, and to not be writing is a special kind of hell: First, there’s the desire to write, but somehow never getting around to actually doing it, and second, there’s the guilt and frustration that comes from all that inaction. (Sorry about the tangle that is the previous sentence — I’m out of practice).

In the back of my mind, I’m always thinking, “I really need to get back to writing, at least on the blog.” And then I freeze. I don’t know why. Did I lose my confidence? Is it laziness? Some sort of creative inertia that’s kept me in some sort of stasis, stretched out indefinitely on the event horizon of wanting to write and actually writing?

I don’t know. Maybe a little bit of everything. It’s easy to make excuses. I was about to write, ” … and some of them are valid,” but you know what? That’s bullshit. If you want to do something — really, really want to do something — you find a way to do it.

But first, baby steps. I’m going to take a stab at writing here again (as well as writing professionally again, because I enjoy it, I used to be good at it, and I need the money, yo). For now, I’m making a promise to myself (and you, imaginary reader), to write here at least once a week. It won’t be exclusively about comics anymore, so expect some randomness.

But at least we can expect something.