I have really been struggling with my writing lately. I thought I had it beaten, but its back again in all its glory. I keep struggling through the revision I’m working on, and I did absolutely no writing this past weekend. First time in ages that’s happened. Nothing. Not a sentence. Not a word.
I am struggling with several things at the moment, and I just can’t seem to get my writing past them.
I love lists, so here are the top 4 things pushing aside my writing:
- DD2 is struggling with some health issues. Not the kind that go away with a round or two of amoxicillin. We’re looking at 3-6 months to deal with them, if we’re lucky. Add to that our insurance doesn’t want to pay for treatments, and I am trying to find a way to get her to her treatments which only occur during my work hours. We’re fighting insurance, I’m working with my boss, and we’re looking at alternative treatment options, but this isn’t easy. So worry has been eating a lot of my brain space.
- Summer is finally here. For those of you that don’t live in the far north of the US, well, you might get more than 2-3 months of the year where it’s nice enough that you want to be outside. I mean, we had sleet last weekend that killed a bunch of plants, and we pulled out the heavy coats you never really put away. A birthday party DD1 was attending had to be moved indoors because it was so cold. Nice weather begs you to be outside, not hunched over a computer.
- Growing project list – there are a lot of things that need doing when you have a house and two children. I think my open project list hit 40 this weekend.
- Doubt – I have poured so many hours and so much of myself into my writing, and for what? I deleted the e-mail rejection letters, but that’s about all I have to show for it. Great, I have a book written that I’ve spent months revising. So, it seems, does half of America. I don’t know if I have the skill, or if I ever will, to write well. Perhaps I should put it aside and pick it up again later in my life (as I did 10 years ago when I quit writing the last time). Maybe writing is what you do when you’re retired if you hate traveling. I feel like there’s very little chance of getting my work published, and I’m not sure it’s worth the effort to keep at it. I regularly feel like more money is made off of people trying to become published authors (see the constant bombardment since I joined Writer’s Digest) than there are people making a living as a writer. I don’t have to write to enjoy these characters and their stories in my imagination. Sure, I’ll want to write again later. And I might again regret the years I gave up. I don’t know. But doubt isn’t helping get words on a page.