Just Another Struggling Writer

Hello friends and welcome to another pertinacious week of writing. 

Last week I talked about the concept of bullrushing one’s way through a creative blockage. Smashing your face against the brick wall of an abandoned muse until something gives (hopefully not your face) and you can finally move forward again.

Friends, I’m about to start smashing my face against some shit. 

It’s not that I’m blocked. I mean, I’m not super motivated, but not blocked either. I’m just tired. I’m so tired that coming home at the end of a regular 8-hour workday has my brain feeling like a wrung out sponge. I’m so tired a fun weekend off looks like a bed and a phone on airplane mode. I’m so tired that writing is done largely in emails and reports. I’m so tired I’m frankly starting to wonder if I’m in the right place in my life where I’m even able to write a book.

I don’t like that feeling or those thoughts. It’s getting to the point where I feel like just powering my way through it just to prove the Universe, or whoever is pulling the puppet strings, that I can do it, thank you very fucking much, and throwing more shit on the pile isn’t going to stop me.

It’s getting the point where smashing my face against a brick wall sounds like a pretty dang good idea. And if I get a bloody nose, then at least I’ll have something to show for my efforts.

Until next time, friends, may your spite-writing be plenty and your struggles be few. 

Kerry Share