This week I’m trying something different, and for me kind of nerve-wracking. I am not pre-writing my blog, but typing it directly into the “content” box and hitting publish after one short check for typos. No editing, no saving to re-write a few hours later. It will be a real stream-of-consciousness effort, thoughts fizzing from my head to my fingertips with no plan, no topic, nothing. Just me and my computer, staring at each other, daring ourselves on.
Mostly this is because I’m having trouble wrangling the writing bug. I think it’s still smothered under the other bug that’s still got a bit of hold on my. I can’t get inspired. I’ve tried editing, writing new, changing stories, but nothing helps. My brain only gives me an annoyed glare and says “shut up already. I’m tired.”
It could also be depression raising it’s monstrous head again. That’s one thing that can kill the writing bug all together, then I have to wait to get infected with another one. But I shall not let it this time. I shall fight and I shall win. I refuse to suffocate under its stifling folds of decaying black again. I can’t afford to take a year off, not if I’m going to reach my goal of self-publishing in January.
Perhaps next week I’ll have enough ambition to actually cover the topic of writer’s block, ways I’ve combatted it, and advice from others on how to banish it to the dark netherworld from whence it hails. But not right now.
And . . . I’m done. I think the cough has settled enough to let me sleep, and the cough syrup is doing its work, grabbing my eyelids and forcing them shut. Before midnight on a Saturday. Boy am I a wimp.
So I shall be a true rebel and not even check for typos. So there, world. So there, computer. So there, inner editor. Take THAT.
Goodnight all, good writing, and all the best in your writing carreers.