To go with my whine.
If you hate self pity, please read the previous post instead. 😀
Well, maybe. It’s whining, it’s wallowing, it’s utter self absorption.
Yesterday, I blogged with great news. That great news still stands. The fact I love my books and love writing, still stands. I get ideas all day every day. So many ideas, so little time.
And that, maybe, is my biggest issue. Time. A couple of occasions over the past 3 months, I have spoken to my CP—my cheerleader and my best friend— and said that I think now might just be the time to stop writing because it’s that thing I want to do, but it just keeps getting pushed to the bottom of the pile.
I also have an issue with guilt. Guilt that prevents me from doing what I want when there are things that need doing. For the past 12 weeks or so, my husband has worked away (barring the weekends, when he came home long enough to make a mess and get his clothes washed :-D) so my children have needed looking after and my house has needed to be kept from falling down around our ears, or being closed by environmental health. My second guilty thing is that my little youngest, my last baby who grows older and slightly further away with each day… sometimes each moment, starts school during the mornings in September and I’ve been trying to grab as many opportunities to be with her as I can—so he overriding memories of me are not of me sitting at a computer while she swipes at a screen or loads a DVD.
But I miss it.
I have the ideas. I have the list of stuff in the order I plan to write to write it. But, every time I scavenge even a minute that I might be able to use from my day… either something more important attracts my attention, or I literally waste the minute away doing crap all because I can’t stand to put my want above actual needs. This is cyclical, right? Lack of time and too many responsibilities leads to too much guilt and frittering away time on responsibilities and crap leads to increased guilt and less time because I just frittered some away, etc.
Worse, I have reviews of books to write, blogs to post (because I’m at the point of letting people down, now), feedback to pass along… and I know, I absolutely KNOW I’m just behaving all ‘poor me’ and just need to get hold of myself.
So I’m mostly just whining because I’m frustrated – mainly with myself, I think. I need to kick myself up the butt and put myself in gear, or something. But I’m also filled with questions. It’s been so long since I finished something – can I still do it? Will anyone want to read it? How do I market what I already have? How do I learn? I used to cit and edit for others… but what if my opinions actually have no merit? How do I balance crib/beta reading with my own writing (and my rest of life… and my attraction to frittering time away)? What in God’s name am I doing? Is it easier to just quit the writing for now? Should I learn how to plan? How will I find the time to do that?
So many questions.
Yet… I have works in progress. I have one work in progress, a sort of contest/submissions call due in August. It’s so off-the-wall and bizarre that it wouldn’t really be suitable for anywhere else, so I need to get it finished and submit it so it isn’t a waste of the time I’ve already spent on it. (If it doesn’t make the finals, at least I’ll have a full doc I can hopefully tweak to something more mainstream than it is now. Either way, for submission or changes, it needs finishing.)
I have a third (possibly fourth and fifth) story to write for the sort-of-series I have stated with Her Undercover Christmas. There are characters from the first two books I want to revisit and bring happiness to. I plan to make them stand alone, but of the same ‘world’.
I have mini stories to write in my What You Wish For world, I have a Christmas story, a smalltown story, another more WF-leaning story… I have many. I have so many I can barely stand myself because why aren’t I just knuckling down to write them? Everything sparks ideas these days. I went to flush the toilet after one my children yesterday (I know, TMI) and I saw bubbles coming from the direction of the U-bend just as I’d started closing the lid. I suddenly thought “What if there’s something down there?” That’s not normal, right? Most people would just press the flush and move on. I’ll be talking to myself soon.
So the ideas are there, but what if I just can’t? I have no idea what to do. At this point, I. Am. Struggling. :-/