If you know me, you know I like to write. I write stories, blog posts, and most prominently, poetry. After writing three books of poetry, two being anthologies, and one being a high concept story book, you’d think I’d be moving onto the next project by now. Instead, I’m not.
What I’ve done
For the uninitiated, since 2012, I have taken up writing poetry for fun, and as a hobby. I’ve had my stuff read publicly in school, and college. I have entered competitions with my work, and had it published in a magazine, and I have written three books featuring my work: ‘The Internal Monologue’, ‘A Remarkable Journey’, and ‘Face’. In summary, each book aimed to do a different thing. The first one was a pure anthology of old stuff. The second one was a new book with a loose narrative. And the third was me sharing how far I’ve come since those two were written.
As you know, the poems were all written or co-written by me, and I have released a book every year, from 2018. I released ‘Face’ only a few months ago, and it did what it set out to do perfectly: show me being happy.
Now we’re in 2021, I have not written any new poetry since ‘Face’ was released. The most I have done is re-edit ‘The Internal Monologue, and made it look more professional. I have not written any new poetry since then. And, frankly, I wouldn’t be upset if I didn’t write anymore books.
Is this burnout? No, I don’t think so. If it was burnout, I wouldn’t be writing anything. I have nothing new to write as poems at the moment. I put myself out there, which is what I wanted. Writing a book and publishing my poetry was one of my life goals. And now I’ve done it.
I will still share poems that I have written on the blog, but nothing new. I feel that I have ran out of meaningful things to write about. A lot of my poems are about how I am feeling, or how I view things, and I have covered a lot of stuff. And now, I feel I have no new ways of covering things, or new things to cover.
So, what next? Well, I am currently editing someone else’s poetry book, so I am not shunning poetry entirely. But, for now, I don’t want to do it anymore. Maybe I’m done. Maybe it is time I start doing different things, within the realm of writing.