"Enough"

I don't understand how anyone can sustain a hobby throughout their lifetime. Is there always something new and exciting to learn about it? Maybe. But what if, yes, there's always something new to learn, but you've grown bored with the whole thing? Do you still care about learning that new piece of it?

I'm FAR from the best writer ever, but I'm good enough. In fact, I'm pretty good. So, what more do I need to prove to myself? And face it, that's really all it amounts to for an author who never sells more than a handful of copies--proving something to oneself. I don't need to convince myself that I can do it. I've done it.

My hobbies, or let's call them "pursuits" (because that sounds more solemn), always have a shelf life. After I observed someone execute a certain craft technique, I thought that was something I'd like to try. I bought the most basic, elementary kit and found out I could do it. That began about a ten-year immersion in crafting. I advanced to more and more complicated designs, ones that required more intricate stitching, and I eventually mastered even the most difficult elements. I framed and hung probably twenty of my designs in various rooms, and then graduated to gifting (no more room at home). 

Then one day I just quit. It wasn't a conscious decision; I just didn't feel like doing it anymore. 

Within that time frame, I also fell in love with photography. This was prior to the digital age, so if one was going to do photography right, they needed at least a semi-expensive camera. Being naturally visually oriented, I relished capturing nature scenes--and by the way, photography is hardly just "point and shoot". Two of the biggies are framing and light. Not being content with my Minolta's capabilities, I bought various filters and lenses. I experimented with shutter speed and aperture. I tried black and white. In the days when one had to drop off their film for processing, it was always exciting to anticipate how well the photos would turn out. (I always expected them to turn out great, when in reality if I reaped one winner out of the entire batch, that was a triumph.)

I still enjoy taking pictures when the opportunity arises, but it hardly ever does. And, really, a phone camera takes a lot of the fun out of photography. The artistry is gone. It's been more than twenty years since I took a photography excursion. The last one was a tour of rural barns. It was great! But I don't want to do that or any other project like it again.

Then came songwriting. I fell into it. Never once did I intend to become a songwriter, but circumstances congealed--my husband writes songs and I'd just suffered the devastating loss of my best friend--and one night I sat down with my guitar and poured out a song in about ten minutes, tops. My husband was encouraging. I think he genuinely like it (as amateur as it was), and all one needs, really, is a tiny bit of affirmation to keep going. So, I kept going. Man, I wrote a lot of bad ones! But one day I got good at it. (Just like writing, one has to just keep doing it in order to get better.) This went on for more than ten years, I think. It's hard to remember.

Then one day I just quit. It wasn't a conscious decision; I just didn't feel like doing it anymore.  

This is where I am with writing. I'll admit, though, that writing is a bit different from the others. I mean, here I am, typing out this post. Just yesterday, I wrote a really good one, if I do say so myself. Writing is more ingrained in me than the other things I spent time doing. It's impossible to explain, even to myself, but writing is both calming and exhilarating. And writing has lived with me forever, in one form or another. 

But starting a new story? I just won't. Perhaps I burned myself out with Running From Herself, and I'm not talking about its failure to sell, but my emotional investment in writing it. It was a long process, and an intense one. It was important to prove to myself that I could do it, that I could write a good full novel. 

And now I don't want to write another female protagonist who's facing a life change (yawn). I don't want to write a novella and I don't want to write a short story. Nor do I want to try a different genre. Essays, sure, but what, pray tell, would I do with them? 

Even my music blog holds no interest for me. I've got about four different topics I should address on it, but the thought of writing those leaves me empty. I blogged about music for almost twenty years, and I'm bored with it now.   

This is a post without a denouement. I might have started it to try to figure out where to go next. I wish it had worked out that way.