I composed a post in my head. Revised it. Considered pictures to go with it. Then chickened out. That’s the thing with writing–it is so easy to chicken out. Shake my head. Feel the knots pulling in my stomach. No reason to go there. It’s probably a big deal only to me.
Why embarrass myself twice? Haven’t I said enough?
Is there something you almost write and then don’t? When it comes to writing, what scene won’t you write? What scene stops your pen or keystrokes? Would it be worth getting it down? Why should you? Why should I?
Marta Pelrine-Bacon 
I have a TON of things I don’t write; now I don’t even have that anymore. Oh well. Like they say — if you CAN give it up, you absolutely should. I guess I will.
Well, if that’s what they say, then maybe they should take a flying leap. Don’t let things they say defeat you.
I won’t write about most personal things. At this point in my life, there’s zero reason for sharing such things. Other people, well, I can’t speak for them, and perhaps they need to vent or something. A writer should probably go with their gut, in most cases. Trust your instincts, I always say.
There’s a reason if you want to, but if you don’t–well, silence can be golden. What’s the saying, “Better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt.”
My problem is that my instincts can go in two directions at the same time.
I didn’t used to write about personal stuff. Now I do. I think carefully about it each time and decide to go fo it. And I feel better for doing it. I draw the line where my personal stuff involves other people’s personal stuff.
That is definitely wise. Don’t involve other people’s personal stuff. Some stories I write about my life, of course, involve real people. I try not to use real names, and am careful how I present things. Tricky though.
I used to be an open, and blabbing, book about my personal life, and then have a hard time writing emotional scenes in my fiction. Now it seems to be sort of the opposite. As I grow more comfortable writing the hard stuff in the fiction, I have less to say about myself on the blog. Perhaps I said all I needed to say and can move on now.
I still have a hard time writing sex scenes, even very sketchy ones.
Oh yeah. Those scenes. Scary.