Hello and welcome to a rare unburdened and optimistic edition of Just Another Struggling Writer. I’m just another struggling writer.
Yesterday, I felt a weight lift off me. I honestly didn’t realize how much extra water I had been carrying these last four years. I wonder how much time I lost stressing about what was going on in the world outside my little bubble.
Some blue check I follow on Twitter said yesterday morning said that they’ll have so much more mental space now that the country isn’t on the brink of falling into fascism that they immediately plan to launch into three new projects. I couldn’t stop thinking about that sentiment all day, as I watched the proceedings with an increasingly light heart.
It would be too cheap and easy to blame my lack of productivity on world events, but, lets be honest, those events certainly haven’t helped the fickle and flighty being that is my muse stay on topic. And though I know myself well enough to say with confidence that I’m not gonna suddenly have enough vigor to write 10,000 words a day or start a bunch of new things behind the scenes even while I’m trying to write a novel, I can’t help but feel buoyed by this newfound optimism in all facets of my life.
It can get so easy to make excuses. Well, I wrote a blog today, that counts as writing so I don’t actually need to put words down. I had two doctors appointments today and now I just want to relax. My internet is blinking out and even though I don’t need it to write, now my ambient noise generator isn’t working and I just can’t focus.
It’s been so easy, these last four years, to convince myself that not only are all those things true, but that capitulating to those impulses is actually self-care. And it wasn’t until I was snuggled up in bed yesterday, with my heated blanket and a cup of hot chocolate, watching the fireworks, that I realized just how much I needed the release of tension it brought. That while things are far from being perfect, I don’t need to make excuses anymore. Because I’m going to wake up tomorrow lighter than I did yesterday. I’m going to be able to not worry about what nonsense the president has wrought and what it means for me and my kids.
Mental space. Its real. And it just multiplied tenfold.
So, now that I’m done writing this post, I am gonna put new words down, thank you very much. Because I’m not satisfied and there is so much more work to be done.
Book of the month side note: I am making very slow progress on Black Leopard, Red Wolf (read: 10% in two weeks). I keep telling myself that it’s not for me and I’m gonna DNF it, especially since I’m running out of time to review it this month as promised in my New Year’s Resolutions post. And yet… I keep coming back to it. I can’t get through more than a few pages at a time, but I’ve yet to convince myself to set it completely aside.
So I may be late with my next review, is what I’m trying to say. Please look forward to it.
The thing about blogging every week is it’s been hard to come up with topics, which is what has lead to these more free form posts of late. But I figure once I’m in the groove and habit of doing it every week, it’ll come easier to think of things to say. Thanks for bearing with me while I, once again, try to find my sea legs with this whole content thing.
Until next week! May your writing be plenty but your struggles be few.
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