These past few weeks, I've been rediscovering my love for writing journalistic pieces. They were starting to get to me, let me tell you. Boredom can be corrosive. I began to ask myself, 'What is the point? Everyone has the same story, gives the same type of quotes, says that God inspired them and hey presto, there's my story.' I didn't believe that everybody was interesting, like I used to. Lost my curiosity with my innocence and gained some very weighty cynicism to go along with my glasses.
What changed? Nothing but my perspective. For the last couple months I've been teaching a class in journalistic writing. My students handed in their first assignment a couple weeks ago. Some were done very well, some were badly done. But they all had decent story ideas. Things I'd not thought of; to tell the truth, I haven't come up with story ideas for myself in a couple of months. I feel like I'm stagnating. But seeing actual stories, without a hidden agenda, come from these student who're new to journalism kinda put some pep in my step. Made me start thinking about fresh story ideas, things that interest me and that I can write passionately about. Things that refresh my soul AND put money in my pocket.
So since last week I've been writing not just from my head but from my creative center ... like my heart, dude. You artsy people know what I mean. The technical and the creative have melded and are working in sync. This is when I produce work that I'm most proud of. This is one of those times when I'm proud to be a writer.
P.S. The marriage counselling ting going good. Like, why was I so freaked, dudes?