I can’t really say I’ve had writer’s block for the past month or so, because I’ve had a ton of ideas. I’m not lacking in understanding what happens next or what I want to write. What I’ve been lacking is the energy. The holidays always sort of suck that out of me, and it hasn’t helped that I’ve been feeling off physically for about four weeks.
I just have been lazy as well, and that is my own fault. I need to start eating better again and go back to the gym. Sometimes I feel like the reason everyone makes resolutions to get healthier in January is because November and December are full of holidays that personify excess for most people who are fortunate enough to be able to stuff themselves silly. When you’re surrounded by that much food it is easy justify eating all of it, at the very least to make sure it doesn’t go to waste, then of course I’m going to make a pun because after that it goes to waist. Yes, I’m a terrible person.
So tonight I decided to go back and reread everything I’ve written because one of my problems is getting back into my narrator’s voice. I can’t just start writing because I need to get back in his head. And boy is he more than ready for me to get back to him! As I’m rereading I can’t help but edit a little bit, even though I promised myself I wouldn’t edit until the first draft was done. I’ve also found myself adding and subtracting bits here and there because I am remembering how he sounds and thinks and he has more to say about these situations.
I wish I had some advice to give people who have writer’s block, because I’ve basically had it for 10 years until 2014 came along and handed me a story I had to get out of me. But all I can say is that you need to read and you need to think about what you’ve read and why you enjoyed it and try to remember why you enjoy writing. One of the things I enjoy most about writing is for people to read it. Some people say they write for themselves and to an extent that is true, I love writing even if no one reads it. But I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter if people read it. I want people to enjoy my work.
I’m rambling again, so I’ll get off here and get to writing for the first time since November. Here is the last thing I wrote so far today, a little piece that got slipped into my first chapter because he wanted it that way
“Most children, even those who live in cities surrounded by iron, were taught that this was a place of danger. Hell, most children including me were told they’d be dragged out here and left for the fairies if they were naughty. Of course I’d never heard of anyone who was, but someone always knew someone who knew someone. You know how it is.”