I think I’m slightly depressed right now. Mostly from loneliness because of the brief separation from my husband. Yeah, a little pathetic, I know, but if you haven’t been apart for a while and you’ve been kind of stuck like glue you sort of feel it, you know? (I was away from him in May while visiting my family, but I had my family with me then, and not just me by myself in an empty house for two weeks). Also I feel a little hopeless about my novel. It seems like I never could progress further than one chapter a week at best, and there were like 10 chapters left when I started earlier this year and now there’re still 10 more chapter left because the book kept getting longer. I mean I’m not artificially lengthening my chapters or anything, it’s just that there’re more and more things to add as I get to know the plot better, the characters motivation better, you know, standard novel draft stuff. It makes me sad that I can never finish anything, it seems like. What am I working so hard for? It’ll never amount to anything. The sheer mountain of work is burying me even thinking about it. So why even try?
I should just suck it up and work regardless. That is the goal – work everyday regardless. But it is so goddamn hard. Just like working out and keep at it, knowing you may never see a result, not even years from now (there’s no guarantee you’ll lose weight, or lose as much as you hoped, even with regular exercising). I did well last week, kinda, but am losing steam this week. I’m not sure what I should be doing right now. I know I’ve been ridiculously stressed because I tend to grind my teeth at night when I’m stressed, and for the past week my jaw ached in the mornings because I’ve been chomping so hard. (It got a little better this week, but I can still feel it). I mean eventually you just suck it up and move on, but I’m not there yet. I have to start moving on, you know? I wanted to write today but couldn’t bring myself to open a word document. I’m not sure how I’ll move through this yet.
Today is one of those days where I just don’t feel like working. I want to lie down on the bed, get some snacks, and read or play some video games. It’s Saturday, I know, but seriously my job has no “days off,” or can have one any day of the week, which I’ve deemed, so far, as Wednesday. And today is not it!
My novel feels endless. I mean, it’s moving forward, yes, but the end goalpost keeps moving too. It has blossomed from a novella to a full blown novel of 40k and now it’s going toward 60k with no stopping. I feel like I’m at the half way mark since forever. It feels so discouraging! Everybody just tells me to “keep pushing” but, what if the push takes 10 years? OK, it won’t take 10 years, hopefully, but another year is a total possibility and that makes me so sad. I’m supposed to be done with this this month and move on to my short stories. What in the seventh hell?
I feel like I know exactly what to do with my life, but that goal is bad. It’s like someone deemed their goal in life is to eat Cheetos and watch TV. Yeah, it’s a goal, but you’ll die if you don’t make money. And that’s where I am. I’m writing a novel with no money. I’m only lucky that I have a supportive family and stuff. And what am I doing? Writing at a snail’s pace on ONE novel, forever. It’s ridiculous. But even keeping up with the daily word count is hard. I should be pushing myself to the limit, but I’ve done that, and all that did was drive me into further depression and completely block my creative side. I’ve learned to pace myself now, but then, the pace is way too slow. It’s like nothing ever goes right in this career path. But then I also don’t know, literally, how to do anything else. And if I try to start over (i.e. give up writing and find a “normal” job), well, I’ve been out of work for five years. So yeah, it’ll be shit with shit pay and shit hours, so, again, not helping any either. It’s really not worth it.
I’m alright. It’s just one of those days. I don’t know what to do with myself besides keep going.
There were fresh flowers lying in a tool box in the garage. A note was attached to it. “Happy Mother’s Day,” it said, gold letters embossed on cream eggshell. There was even a pink bow tying the stems together.
They got delivered late due to a scheduling mishap. Rachel was on her way back already from her mother’s wake. They belonged in the trash but pickup wasn’t until next Wednesday, and Denise didn’t want Rachel to see them, even wilting in the bin. So out with the screwdrivers they sat, until she could drive out – alone – and dispose of them.
I actually made my word count for July Camp NaNoWriMo! Yay!!!
I set a word goal of 16000 words on my novel this month. Yeah, it’s not much, but hey, I actually accomplished what I set out to do this one time. Wow. More than a decade of trying both NaNo and Camp NaNo and never making past halfway of any of my goals, and today is the day. July 2017. Jesus Christ I am horrible at this furious writing thing.
But I’m not going to dwell on all of my past failings, at least not today. I made a word count goal at the beginning of the month, and I’m at it now. So. Kudos to me. I’m going to go have some ice cream to celebrate.
I’ve been writing pretty steadily ever since July Camp NaNoWriMo started, which I’m surprised at myself. I’m still on track for the normal goal but behind on the stretch goal, but hey, it’s a stretch goal. No need to sweat too much about it, right?
Until this week. Yep, I haven’t written a word since Tuesday. On the one hand it’s good that my ‘can’t get past third day’ curse has now morphed to ‘can’t get past third week’ curse, on the other, well I can’t get past third week! I need to write more! Or at least continue where I left off, but for one reason or another I’ve just been procrastinating. It’s true that I’m starting a new chapter so I’m a little bit apprehensive on my characterization, setting, etc., but that’s no excuse. And it certainly shouldn’t have crippled my drive. I’m chalking it up to constant stress the past two weeks writing. But come on, if I can’t handle stress this mild (?) how does the rest of the world handle a daily stressful job? Granted, the logical side of me is saying that I actually have a daily stressful job with essentially no breaks, but like I said everyone is going through the same thing more or less intact (save people who don’t have to do anything to stay alive ala trust fund people etc.). I mean they also have other stresses like providing for a family and taking care of children and all that stuff. I’m living it easy for now, so it’s even stupider that I can’t work now.
I’m not sure whether I’ll get more writing today. I did just buy a new journal for writing notes – I found the idea of actually keeping a written notebook of all of my ideas rather than randomly strew them across various online platforms to be a better route. I am definitely a digital-age writer – couldn’t ever imagine writing anything longhand, not even when I first started. But with the discovery of bullet journaling I’m slowly coming back around to paper and pen once more. Maybe if I can’t get words down I can at least get more brainstorming to help with the words later. I still have ample time to catch up.
I didn’t work yesterday. I also didn’t work on July 4th because I went a party that lasted pretty much all day. It was awesome! Just…not very productive…
I have so many things I want to talk about on this blog it’s kind of, I don’t know, intimidating? I feel like once I miss the window (like, say, watching Wonder Woman a month ago and STILL HAVEN’T got around to blog about how pretty awesome it was. Or Moonlight. I really want to talk about it but I saw that movie seriously like half a year ago. There’s still half a post sitting in the draft folder. Crazy.) I totally would never talk about it again. It just feels so weird, you know? So..I don’t know where I’m going with this exactly, just that I want to post more and just been too lazy. Major procrastinator, this one.
I’m going to work today. I’m actually doing fairly well on Camp NaNoWriMo for once, pretty much kept to schedule until, well, yesterday. And if you’re thinking “girl it’s only been 7 days” well, I don’t think I’ve ever kept up past day 3 in these challenges, so it’s almost double the length, so, yeah, totally legit victory!
Ugh, lame, I know. Well, I’m going to try to catch up this weekend. At least then I can say I kept going despite setbacks, and not that I failed again. Fingers crossed.
First day of Camp NaNo and I made my word count. Yay!!
But first days are always easy. It’s the habit that’s hard to form. So, we’ll see how the rest of the week goes, yeah?
My s.o.’s company is having Monday and Tuesday off due to Fourth of July, so we’re essentially having a four-day weekend. And what’re we doing with that? Housework. Yep, there’s a hole in the bedroom we have to patch. The entire upstairs need a good thorough cleaning. We gotta scoop out the dead plant in the planter outside that we’d neglected since, oh, we bought the house nearly a year ago. I’m thinking of trying to get a green thumb by planting something easy and simple like an herb. To do that we first need to buy new soil and seeds and all that good stuff. So, yeah, an entire four days devoted to mundane housework. I feel very much like we’re married right now.
We might go to Malibu one of these days. Probably Monday, if weather permitting. I mean it is So Cal so weather is 97% permitting all the time, but just in case. Need some good beach and ocean time to relax.