Aaargh! (A freewrite)

The Scream by Shayna Michaels

I'm slacking again. I seem to be running in circles all of the time and never finishing anything. I've been making promotional posters, trying to update the websites for Best Served Bloody, research for my next project, interviews, guest blogging, promotions... I'm just not doing the one thing that should be a priority: writing.

My non-writing life is a mess. My hubby has been in hospital twice with health issues, this on the heels of my own struggles with Bell's Palsy. By the way, I've regained about ninety-five percent of my facial muscle control. Unless you really look for signs, you'd never know I'd had it. Yay me!

My son had pneumonia in the middle of the summer. Since then he's had a bout of bronchitis and sliced open his scalp on his bookshelf/headboard, requiring four staples to correct a direct view of the skull bone beneath. Doctor's still haven't figured out exactly what's wrong with hubby and both children have had fevers and colds off and on since fall fell.

Now, with Christmas looming , there's shopping and decorating to do, family visits to prepare for and the myriad little things the season always brings. Those are all great excuses, aren't they?

That's really all they are though. I can come up with a million excuses not to write. I look at the clock when the children are tucked in and think, "Okay, I'll just take an hour to unwind and then get to work." I log in to Facebook/Twitter/Google +. Three hours later, I look at the clock again and think, "Well, it's too late to really get into anything now. I'll play a couple of rounds of word chains/sodukus/logic puzzles/spider solitaire/whatever, and then get to bed. I'll start early tomorrow and really get something done." Yeah, right! Five or six games later, I'm still wired. I can't sleep now, but I can't think straight either. "There's no point trying to write now."

Log back into Facebook/Twitter/Google +.  Roam around and read people's statuses. Browse their photo albums. Comment on a couple of things. Nobody's really around though because most of my online friends are writers and THEY are writing!

So why can't I write?  Am I just too lazy? Not really.

Am I short of inspiration? Nope.

Do I not have a story to write? Far from it! I have two books outlined and ready to go, and a folder full of concepts I have yet to tackle.

Am I overwhelmed? Maybe. Probably. Yes.

 About what? Well ...

1. There are so many things I need to do that I don't know where to start. Making lists is easy, but I can't put the items 'to do' in any kind of priority sequence.

2. I'm suspicious of my achievments. An oily voice in my mind still whispers that I don't deserve any of it, sometimes. It says that my books are tripe and the people who say otherwise are just being nice.

3. In those moments that I do believe in my work, I'm inclined to doubt my ability to repeat the process. What if I'm a "one hit wonder"? What if I don't have it in me to finish another book worth reading? What if I utterly crash and burn on the next one?

4. It took me over thirty years of dreaming before I got a book into publication. All of my life I've started projects and given up on them. I can't even finish crocheting an afghan I started four years ago. My children's baby books are mostly blank. Can I even finish another book? How can I expect to overcome a lifetime of abandoned ventures?

Ah, but this is different! This is a lifelong dream. Writing is the one thing I've always come back to, no matter what detours life throws at me. I have the stories, the characters and the skills I need to flesh them out. What I need is time.

What I need is to stop wasting time.

I need a mantra ...

"I can do this. I am a writer. Facebook is not my friend. Twitter is a time-sucking torrent. Google + is a noose for the muse. Focus. Write. Focus. Write."

That'll work.
Maybe
Maybe just one game of FreeCell ...