Writing and Progress and Guilt and Things.

Every day I don’t write leaves me with a hollow feeling. It fades quickly when I actually get down to it, and if I follow an unproductive day up with a writing sprint, it goes away completely. When days string together, though, that villainous and mysterious power multiplies exponentially, sending my dread receptors a-tingling. There’s guilt in that feeling, but it’s not entirely guilt. It’s the feeling of lost potential, the craving of an addict, ambition, pride, imposter syndrome, and it’s part of what keeps me coming back to what I’m working on. With teaching full time, that core-ache is far more common than I’d like. Over three weeks of winter holiday I had a chance to dedicate hours at a time to writing, and it was glorious. For the first time since September I didn’t feel like I was stealing the time I need to get into a state of flow.

Classes have resumed now and the dark feeling has intensified. Maybe writing blog entries will keep it at bay. This one will be about what I was writing over my break – the first drafts of three different short stories. I also returned to my much neglected novel manuscript. The short stories were a trio of immensely different narratives; one sci fi, one cozy comedy heist, and one horror. I want to move away from horror, not because I don’t love it (both reading and writing), but because it bleeds into my non-horror stories too much. I’ve written a draft of a post about this that may or may not see the light of day, but in short, I grew up on horror and find it insidious. Ultimately, I don’t want to be a horror writer – I just want to write the occasional creepy story. That said, this one is particularly creepy, and I’m enjoying it.

What I’m particularly excited about is returning to The Foundling’s Tale. Inhabiting that world felt comfortable, and I like what I produced. I hope it’ll give me some much needed motivation and momentum to get over the fear. I tell myself all sorts of narratives when I don’t touch it for a while – “This isn’t how a real writer behaves”, “You lack the dedication to do this”, “Those hours spent watching reality TV could have been productive ones.” The show Traitor is delicious, by the way.

While there may be delicate notes of truth in my toxic narratives, I have defences. I’ve found it important to celebrate my successes, and do my best to avoid dwelling on lapses. Sometimes the effort is like moving old furniture. Sometimes it’s just a shrug.