SquarePeg Books

Yes, I’m late to posting.

Again.

Things are… rough?, which weirdly fits in with this month’s optional topic: the best of times and the worst of times.

I often find that there’s a certain level of stress involved. If I approach that level, I am suddenly super productive. The words flow from my fingers, the ideas just keep coming. It’s euphoric escapism better than any drug out there (I imagine). Possibly the best of times, for writing.

I’m in that zone right now. With the slow and steady approach of summer comes another whirlwind of things to do, things that could go wrong and the continuing joy of various medical issues–my own and my family’s. I’ve been slowly getting back into the work of writing because of it.

But there’s a point at which the stress becomes too much. A point at which all systems shut down except for the most mechanical, the most repetitive, the least possible creative activity.

Nothing works. Ideas stagnate in the swamp, then slowly sink below the surface. How long can I fend it off? Can I avoid it this time?

The worst of times.

It sits there at the end of the path. Patient. Implacable. Unforgivable. Sometimes unavoidable.

These periods of “the worst of times” can take months, years, to pull out of. The longer it takes, the harder it is to recover from.

I hope my shed will be finished, soon. I hope that having a dedicated place I don’t have to move from, a place separated from the rest of the world, even for just an hour or two a day will help keep me from the worst of times.