I’m struggling today. It’s never a good feeling.
I feel like I’ve lost all motivation, all drive and all determination to write anything.
So I decide to blog, go figure.
I think that if I get my thoughts out of my head and into the aether of the Internet, maybe I will motivate myself somehow to get back into the swing of writing.
As my mom would say, “I have lost my na-na” (because na-na is the quicker way to say “je ne c’est quois” in an anglophone family of chronic insomniacs!)
I’m not gonna lie. Part of it has been brought on by myself. I have been taking on extra responsibilities. I’ve been slacking, I’ve been less than motivated to write anything. I have gotten in too deep within my character’s psyche and have spiraled into a depression. I was depressed beforehand. I let video games hold my interest longer than I should have. I’ve been really under the weather, struggling with my joints and migraines. All sorts of things have come between me and my project.
And yet I see all of these reasons and to me they are just excuses.
I take full responsibility for it, however. These excuses? They’re all just excuses. I didn’t HAVE to play video games for three hours. I could have written the 1,667 words every day, that’s usually about 30 minutes of work for me. I could have sat down first thing in the morning, written my words, done my exercise and had breakfast before I got started on my other responsibilities for the day. But I didn’t. And I fully accept that. I have brought this all upon myself.
This isn’t to say that I’m stressing out about it at all.
On the contrary.
I choose to do the NaNoWriMo events as an exercise for myself, for my mind, for my creativity and for my discipline. It takes 30 days to make something a habit, and the goal of NaNo events are not only to write a 50,000 word novel in a month, but also to reinforce the idea that if you write a little bit every day, it will soon become a habit, and that habit ideally will stick with you throughout the year.
Anyway, I am so far behind to make up the 50,000 words. I’m still just over 13,000 and I have 10 days to make up the 37,000 words and finish my novel.
Am I going to do it? I don’t currently know. I want to do it. And I am damn well going to TRY to do it. I have the utmost faith in myself and in my novel. I know that it’ll be worth it when I’m finished. I just have to pull up my skirt, and put my writer pants on. It’s usually easy for me to just go and write. But this is different. Still, I know that it’s something that I have to do. Not just for myself… actually, yeah, it’s mostly for myself. It’s about my pride and my creativity.
I’m going to be selfish and greedy about it. It’s about MY work. MY pride. MY creativity. MY motivation. MY future career. ME ME ME ME.
To Hell with the critics. To Hell with people wanting to edit/beta for me. To Hell with the subject matter. To Hell with it all.
This is about me. This is about the book I want to write, about the story I wanna tell. This is about finishing the story that I think is interesting, greedy and selfish as it may sound, I’m not writing for anyone else this time ’round.
Realistically though, is there anyone else that you should be writing for in the long run?