On Dying

Die: I don’t mind dying for there are worse things;

I do mind others’ dying, because we all want our deaths to be minded when they come.


If I don’t write, I’ll die.

If I do write, I’ll still die.

If I don’t write, I’ll feel like dying sooner;

If I do write I’ll always have some unfinished idea to justify living,

to fighting off dying for a while.

Why I Don’t Write

The first Why I Don’t Write

Because, I think I’ve pretty much figured out why I write already. It’s the friend that’s always there, an obsession or madness, a therapeutic survival tool for hacking my way out of Mormonism, blah-blah-blah, then oddly hanging on to Mormonism by continually continuing to write about it. I hope the latter is not like my nail biting, because I don’t remember a time when I didn’t bite my nails and I sure as hell haven’t been able to quite yet.


Why I don’t write.


Mental fatigue after An 8 hour work day – which is actually 9 hours at/around the office and 20-50 minutes commute time depending on how I get there. So, like anyone with an 8/9-5-er but probably a shorter commute.

Emotional fatigue. I love my job; I help students one-on-one. Sometimes I’ll have 9 sessions in a day and average 5 or so. Emotional fatigue.

Emotional fatigue B: office politics. Really not a fan and I think also probably not that great at it. The good news is I had a revelation today that office politics is like Diplomacy – we just need to diplomatically decide that we are all equally powerful, except of course for the boss, and that we work better as a team. No more games, for the love of god. This does doesn’t appear to be going anywhere however so, emotional fatigue B.

This is Mildred or ‘Millie’. She’s super pissed off that I’m not writing and she’s sick of all my talk and no action. Though, to be fair, she kind of always seems pissed off…

Fear. Fear keeps me more charging on with an idea. I don’t know why I’m so afraid of writing crap. When I taught/tutored writing I would constantly tell my students that I was certain few, if any writers were good because they could shit gold. No, it’s about revising. And I hate all the hypocrisy I grew up with, so…that’s pretty lame that I’m inviting it into the one thing that I’ve maintained and been some level of passionate about for 20 years. Sigh.

Perfectionism fear. This is redundant. But I’m keeping it in the name of facing my fears of writing crap.

Timing. I recently talked to an awesome writer/teacher of mine about getting up early to write, because getting home late and writing wasn’t working. My significant other, bless ‘em, makes dinner and it’s usually ready fairly immediately after I get home. I can’t do coffee after eating without risking screwing up my sleep schedule. And, I’m not a morning person. However, as I write this, it is 11:36pm; I can’t seem to get back to my regular schedule since my awesome trip abroad. Maybe, my body is finally sick of me not writing. I don’t know.

Lack of time, see rambling last paragraph.

Accountability. There are no deadlines. There is no person hounding me to write or holding up consequences if I don’t. Recently, I made a promise with my mother that I would write for 5 minutes daily then she would work on her Microsoft text/class on the days she doesn’t watch my niece and nephew/her grandkids. This starts tomorrow. In fact I’m going to pause to make sure I’ve put this in my calendar and even though I have a feeling it will not work out, it will definitely not work out if I don’t give it a try.


Ok, done. Also under the accountability category is no writing circle. I tried to start one, but the buddies weren’t having it. However, since it’s failure I have been encouraged to try again with a forum of what we’d be willing to put into it. Mmhh. I’m going to do that now too.


Ok, done.

Why else don’t I write?

Let’s see, accountability, perfectionism and fear induced procrastination, mental and emotional fatigue, and timing. I really don’t think lack of time is one I can honestly say, nor writer’s block (yet, knock on wood, thunk thunk!) but…

…Oh yeah, and laziness.

Please feel welcome and free to write via comments to me why you don’t end up writing.

Much Love,

E. Phoenix


And I’m an Ex-Mormon

Kevin and I should get coffee sometime. His line of thinking when he’s on a plane….well. I have been there. A lot. Maybe I shouldn’t proselytize against Mormonism, but I guess until Mormonism stops proselytizing and funding ad campaigns…it’s really only fair.