A writing confession

In order to keep myself from beating myself up from not writing, I decided to write this post. After August, I was on a high — I felt like things were going in the direction that I wanted it to with my writing.

In August, I went to the Writer’s Digest Conference in New York for the first time and I loved it. I even pitched my book which went over well with a couple of agents. When I got back, I gave myself a mini break and went straight into editing my chapters in hard copy.

I had begun a large task which I thought would take me well in November but I finished editing the hard copy early. I felt like I deserved to do a week long one because I was ahead of schedule. I had some life changes that extended that break and left me where I am at now.

The determination to translate the changes and do my best to make sure my book is what I pitched is still there. But (because there’s always a but) it’s been so hard to actually do it.

I know what I send doesn’t need to be perfect and that I could very well still get rejected. And I don’t want to quit. Torque has been my heart and soul. Falling in love with it with every change and I just can’t figure out why it’s so hard.

I thought joining  NANOWRIMO on Instagram would help me kick my butt into gear and while I’ve joined live sprints and got work done, as soon as they were done I would move on to the next life thing–stepping away from my computer.

Yes, progress is still progress. But my feelings for not getting what I want done has been plaguing my mind everyday, anytime I’m not doing what I say I love doing. I hold myself to a high standard of what I can do because I want to exceed my own expectations. I should lower my bar and aim for that, but I don’t want to settle for it. I want to aim high and go higher.

And every time I can’t write, I say tomorrow. Tomorrow will be the day the mojo kicks in. And it doesn’t happen. It’s frustrating.

Why can’t I freaking write.

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