I have a book. One that’s inside me wanting to come out. But sometimes, outside forces are too strong and won’t allow those characters to speak or that place to come alive. Sometimes, no matter how much you want it, it just won’t materialize.
It’s been a struggle lately for me to get these words on paper. I struggle with it every single day. And most days when I try, I get a blank void. It’s as though the Muse packed her shit and left. I feel as though my imagination has abandoned me. And when I sit down to write scenes between characters that are supposed to be hot…well, I get nothing. It’s like I can’t remember how.
Maybe because my head has been clogged for the last few days. And it hurts. Just throbs. It’s like an axe in the back of my skull sometimes. I swear it’s that bad. I had a headache come on like that Monday evening and it escalated to near-migraine proportions. It sucked, quite frankly, and I hate feeling that way.
Anyway. I feel like I need to rearrange myself. Or something. I don’t know what. But something needs to change and something needs to be different. I feel a lot of pressure, a lot of anxiety. I have memory lapses. I left Monday evening for a while and later, as I was sitting in Starbucks, I began to wonder if I had shut the garage door. And I have to say it really perplexed me that I couldn’t remember punching the button and shutting the door as I drove away.
I had originally intended to paint this weekend, but I decided sometimeÂ during the day that I needed to do something else. Instead, I am going to have a “fun” weekend. I’m going to a conference Saturday morning, then shopping and dinner with a friend. Then the movies on Sunday. I should be all funned out by the time Monday morning hits again.
So no, I’m still not writing. My brain USED to have a movie projector inside there – playing scenes nonstop. And characters would speak to me constantly. Maybe because my head has been so wrapped up in other things – daily life things – that it has somehow shut off. I don’t know. I’m not sure. For now, I’m just going to rest and let the mind figure it out on its own. Because the more I stress about it, the more blocked I become.
I told someone today that once these last two books came out – NICE GIRLS DO and A BREAK IN TIME – I was done. There would be no more books from me. And you know the response I got? It was two words: Shut up. And I know he’s absolutely right.
I also know that inside me, there may be the talent but the drive just isn’t there any more. Not right now. It’s like a little piece of me has curled up and died. And no amount of cajoling or pleading will make it come back.
Of course, I say all this today. Tomorrow could be different. It’s just what I’m feeling RIGHT NOW in this very moment. It doesn’t mean I’ll actualy do it and up and quit. Even though I’ve been told – and I know this for a fact – that quitting is never the answer. Quitting is the chicken-shit way out. Quitting is saying I’m afraid to try and succeed. Afraid to take another step forward. Quitting would be like severing a limb and hoping for a tourniquet to make the bleeding stop.
As for today…Well, I have very little faith in myself right now. And that’s is the biggest problem of all.