I am a writer.

Today I officially “claim” that sentence as my own. Sure, in years past I could have said that I write for a living (in a public relations capacity) but I never claimed the “writer” label, instead using it to describe my dream of one day becoming one. The pipe dream that I could cling to in the hopes that one day it would come true.

Funny it took a hurricane, nay a super storm, some may even say the perfect storm to bring it to fruition.

Enter Sandy.

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In Search of Creativity & Time

One of the loves of my life is simultaneously the bane of my existence.

Writing.

What does this look like, you ask? A warped cycle that goes a little something like this:

I go out and experience everything (heck, anything) that could potentially become fodder for my writing (read: copious notes in my Moleskine) and when the creative inspiration hit me, I spend HOURS writing. It is a “feast or famine” mentality that keeps the thoughts tumbling around in my head instead of flowing through my fingertips onto the screen or page before me. My recent writing challenge helped me identify that I don’t carve out enough time to devote to a daily writing practice. But the what about the other side of the coin—this deeply held belief I have about the creative spirit and writing when inspiration strikes?

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