It has been about a month since I wrote. I got stuck on the ending of the second book of a trilogy that I am writing. Every time I think of picking it up I just get tired and all I want to do is watch TV. Even my reading time has been cut down drastically. It’s like I have become the lazy bum I was afraid I would become. I don’t even know why I have lost all inspiration.
I’m starting to think that I have just lost inspiration for the story that I have been working on for a few years. I keep finding things I want to change about it.
Then I get into this head space where I question my own writing. I keep asking myself if I am good enough or if I am just wasting my time. I mean, there are other things I want to do with my life, but writing has always been my main focus. Writing is when I am happiest and I worry that it won’t carry me through life like I want it to. I worry that I am a one hit wonder.
What if I finish the trilogy that I am working on and then all my ideas just dry up? What if I am only good enough for one story and once it’s finished I lose my imagination? Or what if I actually do fall in love one day and I lose all interest in writing? Yeah, that thought crosses my mind all the time.
See, when I started writing it was poetry. I have always told stories, but I didn’t start writing until high school. I was extremely depressed and angry. Poetry helped calm the evil beast that lay within my teenage body. There was so much going on and poetry helped me make it through without killing myself.
In college is when I really started writing stories. It started with short stories at first. The trilogy that I am working on was inspired by a picture that I captured on a 3D chat site. The two avatars I was working on were gazing at each other like they couldn’t bare the thought of being separated. In that instant the avatars became real and their emotions were bright in their eyes. They were two people in love and one of them had a secret that she wanted so badly to tell.
That started my writing career. I found that I loved writing, but most of my stories where love stories and still are. I fear that I am good at love stories simply because I dream so often about falling in love myself. So what if actually falling in love breaks that part of my writing?
Of course, my desire to find a new world, a place where I actually belong, drives my stories too.
Ugh! I am just so frustrated because I seem to have writers block. And now I finally understand that writers block comes from something more than just not knowing what to write next. It’s more of the fact that there are things deep in the mind blocking me from tapping into the greatness that awaits me. The question is, how in the world do I get to that place? How do I get past the negative thoughts and the stress and depression? How do you get through the dark when your flashlight batteries have died?
I guess I need to learn to build a fire.