Where have I been?
Here.
Living in my head, thinking about writing but never actually putting it on paper. It has been weeks since I’ve posted anything and I’ve kept my distance from social media.
Why? Why indeed.
Writing is a funny thing for me. It’s something I think about all the time. I churn out stories in my mind. I visit different plots. I imagine the book cover. The interview. The book tour. All of it. If I’m not thinking about my own writing, I’m reading someone else’s novel. It’s kind of exhausting yet I never accomplish a damn thing.
What is the barrier I can’t break through?
Sometimes I’m overwhelmed by the details. Great authors do their research. I can’t write about living in the south without knowing what it’s like to live in the south. I can’t talk about the engineering profession without knowing what they do. I can’t describe homes or foliage without knowing about style and biology. I’m not afraid of the research, I’m just frozen in fear.
Sometimes I lack the motivation. I wallow in the “it’s too late to do this” and then I scroll through the rolodex of my life to catalog all the places I went wrong.
AND on top of everything, I’ve put on some pounds so my vanity is getting the best of me. I’m obsessing about my one piece bathing suit and my jeans being too tight, my underwear being too small, my face being too full.
The dumbest thing of all is that all these things make up one of my main characters. If I just sat my ass down and put it into my story, I’d have at least a chapter done. But instead, I will put it in this blog and hope that someone out there is living this same freaking dream.
I will finish this book. I will be successful and then, won’t it be fun to look back on all this whining?
LASTLY, has anyone heard of The Novelry? I’m thinking about trying it. Obviously, I need some help.