I haven’t been blogging. You may have noticed.
The truth is, I have nothing to say lately. Or rather, I have nothing good to say. Work has been busting my hump and I have no time for anything related to my own writing. I have all these ideas in my head, punching me in the back of the skull trying to get out, and it’s giving me a damn headache.
There’s the short story that’s almost ready to go out, the two different articles I’m dying to research and pitch, the novel that I’m trying to finish, and the next novel that I’ve already started outlining because I can’t wait to start writing it. Oh, and this blog. I’m telling you, it’s painfully crowded in my brain.
Getting up at 5am to write gives me about an hour and a half a day, but I don’t motivate to do it every day. Most weeks I average about three mornings a week. Last week it was one. An hour and a half of my own writing all week. When I think about it I get so fucking cranky.
And I’m not complaining about my job. My job is pretty great, insorfar as I get to do a lot of writing (for other people), and I have a lot of flexibility, but it just doesn’t leave much time for the work that keeps me feeling engaged in life, excited to face each day.
I refuse to give up. I will keep plugging away, and maybe I’ll even manage to get over myself, stop complaining and just get up early more often to write. But if I’m a little lax on the blogging trust me – I don’t have anything good to say anyway.
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