I've hit a trough in productivity this month. For two weeks now I've missed Writer Monday because of illness and my old procrastination/impostor syndrome problems rearing their ugly head.
Things have also been really quiet on the reply front. Barely even any rejections the last month or so, but that also means no acceptances either. I don't know if it's just this time of year for publishers, but my anecdata from having been in slush pile hell the last two years tells me September/October is the slowest time. Who knows, I could be just imagining it.
But my lack of new words...well, all I can say is 'ugh'. I has a disappoint in myself. I'm struggling even to hit a few hundred words at night. Oh gawd, griiiiiiizzzzzzzllllllllleeee. More cheese with my whiiiine. Yeah, there's a few personal things going on (which I won't talk about because, well, yeah, they're personal), and the usual claustrophobia from being stuck in Going Nowhere Fast City (aka Christchurch).
I need something good to pick me up. I'm off to Sydney for a week at the start of November, and as much as that is going to be OMG DISCO-GLITTER-TASTIC, I can't help being amused at the little voice in my head saying "yeah, but that's MORE time you're going to miss writing". I suppose I could take my lappy with me, but I don't go overseas to sit around and ponder my navel!
Anywho, one thing that does show up from this productivity wane is how very lonely writing can be. I've lost four people from my writer group this year, three because they moved away after the earthquake. There's not many, if any, people I trust to critique my writing. I just need a good boot along.
And that's the rambling thoughts from Aspiring Writer Manor for today. Here, have a kitten.
|I was going to start procrastinating today, |
but I figured I would wait until tomorrow to start