February totally smoked me. If we’d been racing for pinks, I’d have lost my car, my husband’s car, my parents’ cars, and all future cars my children will ever own to February.
The writing at a friend’s house kind of works–when I can get there. Not easy when you have kids that want to spend time with you, and dogs that are not able to be trusted to be home alone for longer than an hour or two, which complicates things because of course, EVERYONE wants to do EVERYTHING at the SAME TIME as I WANT TO WRITE.
)It’s easy to blame other people for your own shortcomings, isn’t it? House dirty? Blame the family and the dogs. The yard has gone to hell? Blame the family and the dogs. Didn’t write this week? Blame the family and the dogs. Your ability to focus shot all to crap? Blame it on the family and the dogs.)
I”m almost done with the second edit of the second romance novel (How did I start writing that stuff? I don’t even read the genre, but I’ve got friends who do that say “yeah, this is a lightweight romance novel” after reading the manuscript.), there’s only 2-3 more chapters to go. After which I need to go back through the first and then the second one again to tighten up a few details and consistency issues, which I know are there, I just don’t know exactly where.
I just can’t seem to get my ass in gear.
A friend of mine has agreed to sacrifice her sanity to read what I have of my 3 fantasy book, since that one has been stalled for far too long now. I know where everything is going, I’m just… having problems getting there. The infamous “Muddle of the Middle” conundrum.
Things are challenging, right now. Circumstances are making me question whether or not I should focus on anything other than family and writing, or if I should abandon writing as nothing more than a useless hobby. It’s heartbreaking to think that way, but the circumstances of everything I’m dealing with personally right now seems to require a serious reckoning. It feels like I have very limited personal resources to dedicate to anything, but I’m required to focus on everything. The desire to be extraordinarily selfish and focus on what I want for once seems to be in direct contradiction to the expectation and responsibilities that others have of me.
Much whining, not much problem solving. Not much braining lately. I won’t say I has the dumb, but I will say the brain-meat isn’t working at optimal levels.
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