I feel that the title of this post would make a rather good story title, or maybe a poem. But alas, it is purely factual in that this really isn’t a story. This is a post to just allow me to ramble about writing. Or more accurately about the things that stop you from writing, the one thing that keep getting in the way: life.
I’m yet to meet a fellow writer who doesn’t hit a rough patch, either becuase they are just too busy to sit down or because for one reason or another life has drained their creativeness, whether it be exhaustion or things have sucked away their enthusiasm (ususally nothing to do with writing). I mean a good number of us are also VERY good at procrastinating. There is a reason there are so many writer procrastination memes- we’re all making them to avoid writing. Or we turn on the computer to write but accidentally look at one of those social media interweb sites and somehow end up watching endless Grey’s Anatomy clips…. [just me? Okay for the record, I have never seen an episode but a certain social media site decided to show me some clips, and if you watch one you get ten more, watch two and you’re doomed. And now I know more about Grey’s Anatomy than most other shows having never watched it and of course now it really thinks I like it so shows me more. And really, that’s how you write out Dr Karev, I feel that’s a blog post in itself.]
I’m getting distracted, which ironically is part of the subject of this post. We writers even get distracted by not knowing what to do. I currently have an RPG thing to work on, an anthology submission to come up with an idea for, a nano novel I started 6 years ago I vowed to finish but when you have 30 minutes at the end of a day, 29 of them involve staring at space trying to decide which to do by which time you’re yawning so much thining is no longer possible. It’s even been a struggle to come up with the next tweet in my ghost ship saga and that’s just one tweet a week.
Of course everyday life takes a toll. My brain is so mushed that when it comes to doing the thing I love most, I’ve got nothing left. This makes me sad. Which does nothing to improve my mood, which turns my brain more to mush which etc etc. you see the pattern. And if you’re like me, when things around you are turning to chaos, there’s nothing like fixing something or cleaning something…seven hours later you wonder why you haven’t managed that one thread prompt you tried to do a day. (And just to add pressure to insanity I am going to be a Threads vss host in June… eep)
So why am I writing this blog post? To moan, to make myself feel better, to be heard? Probably all of these. And to remind you I’m here. Just because no story is here, doesn’t mean I’m not a writer anymore. The words will come back, I’ll start furiously scribbling one night when I really should be in bed because future me is really going to be annoyed at 8am when I’m trying to work… But that whole staring into space is still writing thing. Valid. Going for a walk with headphones in? Also valid. That’s where my best ideas come from. I may not have written a single letter, but the ideas are there, they’ll come out when they are ready. My best Avalon and Albion stroylines have played out in my head a million times being refined before I ever put a pen to paper (metaphorically) (okay yes, I missed A+A off the list…).
And in the meantime I have 4, yes 4 stories out in the wild waiting to hear back. And I will start that anthology story (I think Todd and August Shaw want to take this one) and I will write those ghost ship tweets. In fact I just did the two new ones. I am up to date. See, it happens. Just slowly sometimes. So if you’re like me and you see all those wonderful people posting constantly, saying they have written a million words. Good on them, but I bet they had bad days, and for every one that hasn’t ten of us have. Some of us more than others, sometimes for longer than usual. But you’re still a writer. Even if the story is just in your head for now. Am I talking to you or me? Or am I a figment of both of our imaginations? Neither. I’m Todd and I really want you to stop sulking and write the next damned story!
I’m sorry what?
You heard.
Seriously I worry about me sometimes.
You worry? I worry. Why you still waffling here, get writing.
Tood, get lost, You’ve been spending too long with the Boss. You aren’t the boss of me. I’ll write when I’m good and ready. Might be tomorrow. Might be next week. But when I do… it will probably need rewriting, but that doesn’t matter.
Lexikon 