I once read that Noam Chomsky didn't particularly like being interviewed by the mainstream media, essentially because of the tendency of mainstream journalists to reduce complex issues to soundbites that don't do justice to the story being told.
When I was younger, everything I thought worth writing turned into a cogent story or essay carefully drafted in my notebook. If I wasn't bringing a book to read during my parents' friends' dinner parties, I brought a notebook to write in. I had periods in my life during which I wrote in a notebook every day, and I wrote everything from accounts of things that happened in real life to contemplations about the future to creative pieces. Writing became such a habit in my life, and a stress-relieving one, that when I was drafting my Ph.D. thesis, I would often take a break by writing creatively.
After many years of writing in my private notebooks, I forced myself to put some of my work in public view. I started a blog partly so that I could become used to exposing my writing to others and to receive feedback about it.
As my schedule became more hectic with my new job at a law firm, I've written much less. It's been ages since I've written anything creative. When I return to creative pieces I've begun and wanted to expand, I find myself at a complete loss for ideas. It's as though my mind has shrunk.
Although I want to blame my "situation" of being in a job that forces me to write as uncreatively as possible drafting patent specifications, in reality, I think my loss in creativity is due to disuse of that skill. I no longer find myself weaving intricate tales or crafting clever pieces. I'm reduced to occasionally clever Facebook status updates, and am tempted to use one-line Twitter updates as well.
Essentially, I've reduced myself to occasional soundbites that don't do justice to the stories I could tell.
