Super frustrated over the lack of novel writing. It’s been 19 days, NOT THAT I’M COUNTING, or anything. Not that I’m thinking that’s **almost** a month of lost words, lost work time…
It’s not that I don’t have any ideas. It’s just…there’s something off in all of them…it’s just that they all excited me equally. The last three manuscripts I drafted, I felt it, y’know?
I feel all of these on equal levels, they all terrify me on equal levels…
Today I woke up thinking of Agatha Christie saying she knew she was a professional author when she wrote even when she didn’t feel like it, didn’t like it, and wasn’t doing that great a job.
So, I’m going to try again, but instead of hoping for inspiration or some divine music from the heavens, I’m just going to try, without any expectation of what kind of outcome I want.
Natasha
