Friday, December 30, 2016

A Case of the Blahs

I have dozens, maybe even hundreds of partial ideas and story prompts. Several jump out at me and I think, "That would be cool." But that's it. No flood of subsequent ideas. Just a desire to write a story that would be cool. It’s like… I'm just not feeling it. But I want to write something.

It's not writer's block. It’s just writer's meh.

I need something to give me that push off the edge. The thing that makes me stop what I'm doing and say, "Holy shit, what if that happened?!" That's the best thing, when you have so many ideas and plans and you can’t write it down fast enough. It's a rare thing.

And I don’t need ideas at the speed of light. I’d settle for a reasonable highway speed. Right now I'm in park. With the e-brake on. In a bog. I'm not going anywhere, is my point. I'm stuck here, slowly sinking. Here's my hand, pull me up.

Yeah, sorry, my thoughts come with a soundtrack. Welcome to my head. It's a little crowded in here.

I'm not going to be the next great American novelist. I know that. But I wouldn't mind getting a short story or two published. Then I’d be a real writer. Then I could justify all these years of scribbling nonsense.

But I need to write. These stories won't create themselves. I'm going to have to do it myself. But right now I can't. And that's driving me crazy.

So I'm going to let you all down again. No discussions of process, no excerpts.

See you Tuesday.

2 comments:

  1. You've been blogging consistently for nearly a year now.
    You're a writer.
    I can't even consistently comment/participate - it just comes in surges and drops off. But I do read every post.
    Because they're good.
    You're a writer.
    Inspiration and motivation aren't always there for you, but you manage to put some words together through thick and thin. You take those words and put them out there for others to read and scrutinize and relate to and criticize. Why?

    You. Are. A. Writer.

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    Replies
    1. This is exactly what I need these days. Sometimes I forget that throughout all my "not writing" I am, in fact, writing.

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