Far too long. A mixture of College and other things has supplied enough entertainment for me to be distracted enough to not write - well, anything. It's a shame, but surely everyone must go through periods where they just can't write and if they try, they see it as useless and screw it up, adding it to the ever-growing pile of half-filled pieces of paper in the bin?
I've been reading George Orwell's collection of 'essays' recently. It's a 1369 page book containing all of his 'non-novel' writings starting from 1928 and covers things from reviews to social commentaries. I've read quite a few all on different subjects and I wonder - how can someone from over 80 years ago entertain someone like me with a topic about a cheap newspaper and not only that, but leave me smiling at the end?
That does make me feel bad. If he can do that (and he's not really seen as one of the greats) then surely I should be able to produce something worth while? I sit down and try to fashion something and fail again and again, thinking back to that essay on a bloody farthing newspaper and trying, in an exercise, to replicate that. But I can't!
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