Life, it seems, is nothing more than finding new ways to start over. And over, and over. Which is frustrating, and exhausting, but nobody ever promised me a rose garden. Not that a few flowers would go amiss. Except that the dogs would knock them over, and the cats would try to eat them. Which would, at least, be amusing.
So far this new year hasn't exactly been helpful in encouraging writing. Encouraging cleaning, cooking, animal care, and self-care, yes. Writing, not so much. The story ideas fly thick and fast, including a couple based on Peter Pan (one crossed with the Dangerverse, one just a straight-up fan fiction), continuations of my other fan fictions, and one or two stories which are either fairy tale retellings or tales of my own invention in that style. The problem is, ideas are not words.
I sometimes feel like I've fought this battle a thousand times before, and it doesn't get easier with time. If anything, it gets harder, because I get more and more experience of just what it means to allow people to read my writing. It can be wonderful, but it can also be hideously painful, in so very many ways, and a very large part of me would like to avoid that pain by wishing my writing away altogether.
I'd love to thunder denunciations on that part of me, to claim that nothing will ever stop me from writing, not even me. But the courage I could muster to keep from being destroyed by the criticism or indifference of others isn't much help against the cool, dispassionate distaste of my own inner critic. Writing is all very well for a young person (it says). But you're getting a little old to play with dolls, don't you think? And if you must persist in such a foolish occupation, at least you should move beyond the crutch of magic and fantastic worlds. It only makes you look even more ridiculous.
No, this isn't a happy, cheerful post. You want Why Do I Work Here Wednesday for that. (Duck season! Wabbit season! Binder season! Coming soon to a blog near you!) But if you're wondering why you haven't heard from me lately, well, this is why. I want to not give up. I'm trying to not give up. But it's a little bit hard, when even my own self very often turns against me.
Thanks for reading. Hope I haven't scared everybody away. Regular silliness resumes on Wednesday.