So I've spent considerable amounts of time over the last few months, lamenting my current lack of creative motivation. I simply haven't felt "in the mood" for writing. I know from experience the kind of work I produce in that sort of emotional quagmire: boring, drawn-out work, far too big on quantity and sadly lacking in quality. (You're reviewing an example right now, I guess.)
But a moment ago I looked at my regularly-neglected list of draft posts, and forced myself to start a draft of anything, just to do something. And while I won't identify which (future) post it is that I wrote just a moment ago, I think it was good. It wasn't just good... it was On Fiyah. Then a long-forgotten maxim reared its head in my almost-dormant psyche. The number one rule for a improving as a writer is: Keep Writing.
How could I seriously have been so thick? At what point did the number one rule just up and poof into the thin air evidently abundant in my hibernating intellect?
(While the last two sentences were intended to be rhetorical, feel free to post whatever comes to mind.)