Everything I write is rubbish, my novel will never be finished, no one will ever get to read it and I will grow sad and fat.
That is my brain right now. You guys writing is hard. It is like a yo-yo or some kind of theme park ride. There are massive everything is going right highs and then down down lows. Actually in most theme park rides I’m scared for my very existence. Yep I’m gonna say that feeling applies to my writing as well.
I’ve started to get depressed over how long this stupid first draft has taken me. Someone asked me how long I’d been writing it for and I said a year and they were like oh. But then I realised that’s not entirely true, see I’m a time rounder-upper. It’s April right now and in my head it may as well be July and then the year is pretty much over. I think I’ve been saying my daughter is 18mths for the past 2mths and she won’t be for another 3mths! Anyway. So really I’ve only been writing this since the end of October last year…that’s not exactly a year. But still it’s a while.
A lot of the love I had for my MS when I first started has begun to wane. Truthfully it’s started to feel more like homework and you know what you do with homework, avoid it. How has this happened? I used to bounce out of bed in the morning anxious to start writing, unable to type fast enough to keep up with my flow of words. Ok I never really bounce out of bed, it’s more a zombie shuffle to the coffee pot. But still. The honeymoon seems to be over, my MS has stopped shaving its legs.
So I guess this is where it starts to get real. Where it starts to get hard and from what I’ve heard it’s gonna get harder again. Now I’m back on that roller coaster fearing for my existence! Can I do this? Can I really? I’m not good at finishing things. I still have one subject left of my uni degree, one pant leg hemmed, one glove knitted. I am a serial non finisher, if that’s a thing. I have 10k left, 10! I can see the tiny speck of light on the horizon, I just need to wade through this swamp to get there.
Eeeep.
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