Hello friends, and welcome to a self-interrogative edition of Just Another Struggling Writer. I’m just another struggling writer.
Despite my New Year’s bravado, the first two weeks of 2022 have not been as productive I had hoped. I could fill this space with all kinds of excuses ranging from the understandable (my purse being stolen) to the weak (the Nexus needs to go back in the percolator guys, no really!), but the truth is I have always struggled to push myself to meet self-imposed goals and deadlines.
This week I’ve been wondering why that is. I have no problems (well, fewer problems anyway) cranking words out for my freelancing projects, so why, when it comes to my fantasy ideas — my supposed passion projects — do I struggle to summon even the smallest modicum of energy to write consistently?
Am I one of those writers you sometimes hear jocularly referenced, the the kind that spends more time talking or fantasizing about being a writer than actually getting words out? Am I destined to be that one author in your critique group who never can move off the first chapter and finish the rest of the draft? Will just another struggling writer cease to be a tongue in cheek moniker, and become my ultimate definition?
Do I not want it bad enough?
It seems I’ve got some re-assessing to do. Until next time friends, may your writing be plenty and your struggles be few.
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