November 17, 2021
Day 401, Week 58
- Emotional State: Scrambled, with a Side of Fries
Life, Books, & Writing
The slog that is the middle of Nanowrimo has hit. I forced myself to write and felt uninspired by what reached the page. This is, similar when writing a book, the messy or saggy middle, when your inspiration wanes, your motivation couldn’t be brought to life by lightning hitting the Chrysler building, and the whole thing seems pointless.
After one day of not writing, forcing myself to write for three on the trot, I hit Sunday and just decided it didn’t matter. I didn’t need to write that day. I could do anything, including cleaning my toilets, with more enthusiasm than I could write. So I gamed instead, because if you have a choice between a video game and a toilet, which one are you really going to choose? The fun one.
My word count is in a good spot and the story is flowing like melted butter off a knife. Thus, Nano and its 50k word count will easily be achieved anyway. There was no need to force myself to do something I didn’t want to do.
We do that a lot in life already. Mow the lawn because it’s the only nice day, even if you’d rather read a book (or, lets face it, stick a fork in your hand). Go to work, because you need to money for food. Put up with random family members around the holidays because… yeah, I don’t know the answer to this one, since I don’t have this problem. But you get the drift.
As adults, we slog away at life and forget to celebrate the little wins. We need to recognize the present moment whenever we can, because before we know it, we’re seventeen days into November and Thanksgiving is next week. At least I have the turkey already (thanks paranoia for making that happen two weeks earlier when we don’t really have the freezer space).
I digress. A lot. And thus the emotional status of Scrambled.
I think I took on too much this month. Work, a side project, writing a 70k book, promoting my book, playing a new video game, reading a few books for reviews that I promised, and figuring out the holidays. As well as life and all its stupid demands, like laundry and grocery stores. I don’t really need to clean my toilets every week do I? (Yes, the answer is yes; there is no other).
I’m pushing through this month, hoping December will give me time to process, schedule, plan, and generally have downtime. But I don’t know if I’ll let it. Maybe I need to pants through life like I pants through my novels. I don’t think I can, though. Schedules allow me to control my environment enough to let the rest slide. Or maybe they stress me out. I’m really not sure what I want, except that I keep piling it on my plate.
It’s like I’m at the diner (love diners!) ordering the breakfast it only takes them five minutes to make and I ask for fries with that. I’m already getting hashbrowns. I don’t need the fries, but I ask for them anyway.
That’s my current mind state. I have random bursts of amazing vocabulary followed by the inability to remember a simple word, like complexity. Or nuance. Random bursts of brilliance when writing (today’s session was amazing), followed by humdrum slogs of just getting the words down. Clarity and peace followed by a miasma of overwhelming tasks. My brain can’t seem to settle or focus, except when it can.
Am I alright with that? Yes, as long as I get a side of fries with it.
To read more of my weekly whine fests and writing journal journey posts, click here.