Writing is hard.
I’m still in a bit of recovery mode after my mental meltdown over one single writing project.
And while we’ve had a few moments of mild reprieve from gross summer weather, I’m still feeling the effects of SAD. Though I do have a little bit more of a handle on the anxiety that has been all-consuming now that I know where it’s been coming from.
Getting back to writing after an inadvertent break feels a bit like floundering. I’ve spent a lot of time staring at my writing folder trying to figure out what the hell I’m going to do with myself. I’ve spent just as much time staring at a blinking cursor in WordPress. I’ve started and deleted a dozen posts, trying to cobble words together into something resembling coherence. I’ve tried writing about something other than writing, but everything comes out wrong.
It happens.
It’s nothing new.
Things go in cycles, though I can’t tell if there is a definitive pattern to it all or not.
Basil is still on his Whatif??? crusade, but believe it or not, some of those whatifs actually involve characters other than ∞Tyler. Miracles never cease, I guess. I’ve been writing things, and some of it is okay, but it’s not quite what I want to be writing. I have ideas, but they’re stuck inside my head, trapped behind some sort of unidentifiable barrier I can’t quite figure out how to break through.
It’s frustrating at best and infuriating at worst, but all I can really do is ride it out until it passes.
In the meantime, I poke at existing stories, write what I can, and read through the stuff that reminds me why I do this in the first place.
Also, listen to music on repeat.
Always.
(I Go Through by O.A.R.)
I love this band so damn much.
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I Go Through O.A.R. |