I hadn’t realized that it’s been almost three months since I posted here T_T.
Things on the homefront have been hectic. There are no disasters or tragedies, but I had copy-edits, a book review column, and my brother and sister visiting (sister from LA, and she’s still here).
I did get copy-edits back on time, I did get the book review column done — and then spent FIVE DAYS trying to get the column from iCloud to gmail. This… did not work. My text mails were fine, my 64k .rtf column attachment was not. I have no idea why; I don’t know if it’s the name of the attachment, etc — but it’s the same naming convention I’ve always used.
I tend to be a bit over-focused when something is going wrong on the tech side.
So I have gotten far less work done in July than I had planned to get done, which… always makes me somewhat anxious, and it’s an anxiety that grows as the work gets farther and father behind.
Some writers do not need to write daily. Some do very well in intermittent bursts. Some can write 10k words in a day, for 2 days on a weekend. I…am not one of these writers. Reminding people that there is no right way to finish a book, no right way to write, I am one of those writers who does far better with daily (or 5 days a week) writing. Even the gap of a few days can set me back, because it feels as if the book recedes if I don’t somehow pin it in place on the inside of my head — which I can only do by writing.
So there are disruptions. Some are otherwise happy family disruptions; some are copy-edits (which shouldn’t count as a disruption, but, well, writer brain). And because I’ve lost days, when I sit down to write again on the first day, it takes way longer than normal to find the voice of the book again, to hear it properly (yes, this is a metaphor). And because it takes longer when there’s too much going on, I don’t get enough done and then I feel even less like a writer.
Writer despair is not a logical thing; it’s certainly not practical.
June was also disruption heavy, but for far less happy reasons. The political shadow of June took a while to pull out from under, and to be honest, it’s still looming in the vicinity.
This is the frustrating thing about being a writer. It’s not that I don’t have the time (well, actually, in July it’s been fraught), but that I don’t have the mental bandwidth; it’s caught in despair and shadow and grimness, rather than in book. I cannot just sit down and write – I do make myself sit down, regardless. But the fact that I can’t get past the gloom and the stress of the news, etc., makes me feel like, hmmm, a bit of a failure.
People who write — or who are involved in any creative endeavor — probably know this one well. Just stop whining and do the work. Except that’s not the way creative endeavors work much of the time. I can work at the bookstore; I can do housework or cooking or etc., at home — but those don’t require the same emotional presence that writing does.
Anyway, someone in comments was worried because I hadn’t posted in a bit — and I apologize for that. I am still here, everyone is in reasonable health, I still have a roof over my head, etc. etc. And regardless of difficulty and disruption, I am still working.
Sorry for the radio silence T_T