Where's the Line Between "Work" and "Just Work?"

As you likely know by now (follow the very-cleverly-concealed clues, Sherlocks), in my spare time, I like to write.

I'll admit it: I just wanted to throw some Cumberbatch on this post.

That's not true, in my spare time I write. "Liking" it doesn't really seem like accurate terminology. Maybe  "I feel compelled, as in OCD compelled, like if I don't do this, the inside of my skin will itch, to write" is closer to the mark.

And of course even that only makes me churn out so many words a day. Unless it's a really NICE day and a friend wants to wander. That's important too.

Unlike many of my other addict friends, though, writing is also my day job. Some of it is mildly creative, some of it is deathly boring (that's day jobs, right?), but upwards of 90% of what I do relates pretty directly to the written word.

As I mentioned recently, it's pretty much the only skill I have.

But there's writing and there's writing.


Despite the fact that I spend many (alright, some...alright, occasional) hours every work day writing words that are meant to be read, none of that, in my mind, is REALLY writing. It's just work. It's a skill set like using Excel or unjamming printers--it's useful to have, sure, but it doesn't contribute in any way to me being/becoming/evolving as a capital-W Writer.

It's important to have a variety of skills. 

Then there's an in-between zone of writing--things that I'm glad I do, and willingly do in my spare time (like writing a newsy story that requires me to interview randos, say, or reviewing something hopefully-cleverly), but which I only kind of think of as real. That stuff requires thought and skill, sure, but it's essentially mechanical. Put the pieces together, trim off any overhangs, and ta-da: writing.

Then there's actual writing. The kind that can leave me staring at the comoputer, blankly, for hours before I actually manage to DO any of it. Weirdly, I feel like this blog actually falls closest to this category (I know-dear GOD).

There's making it through the school day, there's practice, and there's the game, if you will (it's not like you won't; this is NOT an interactive format).

On the one hand, my breaking my writing into "real" and "apparently fake somehow" writing seems slightly illogical. Possibly even flat-out stupid.

But on the other, I'm right, right?