Writing and I are a taking a break from each other and evaluating our relationship. It was my idea and I may have actually used the "It's not you, it's me" phrase. Writing doesn't seem to mind, or have missed me in the slightest.I don't miss writing all that much either.
What I really don't miss are the hours and hours spent in front of the computer, trying to second-guess the characters or agonizing over the plot. Writing - like any relationship - is a lot of hard work.
I'm not adverse to hard work. I don't even mind the lack of balance between slave labour and minimal reward. Initially, I thought the break was motivated by the complete and utter lack of reward but, now I'm not so sure.
I don't want to talk about writing with anyone. Reading is another subject entirely. I can discuss a good book for hours. If someone starts to talk to me about craft, plot, character arc or structure in my own work or theirs then I feel a very negative physical reaction.
I take encouragement as patronizing or even condescending when it's not meant that way. I get angry when people tell me how to resolve my writer's block. It's not a block. I'm not stuck. I have words and ideas. I just don't want to write, yet the whole thought of not being a writer makes me ill. It's been a part of my identity for as long as I can remember. Is that what I cling to? Is the idea of being a writer what I care for more than the writing itself?
Clearly, I'm not over writing. There's a lot of unresolved emotion there. If we have any chance of working it out and getting back together I need to examine what's turned my love to hate. They're two sides of the same coin. I am not indifferent to writing in the least.
Perhaps this time apart will help me evaluate our relationship, put things into perspective and help me find a healthier balance than the all-or-nothing attitude I seem to have these days. If not, then I have plenty of paper with which to line the bird cage.