When I went on vacation last month something happened that I really didn’t expect: I just stopped writing.
I had been writing on 750words.com for over 100 days in a row, and when I went to Arizona I missed a day and so I just stopped. When I started blogging in January with the intention of keeping that up every day for a year, I got to 91 days and then stopped.
I don’t have much of a follow through with anything in my life. Sometimes I think the only thing in my life I can say for certain I’ve not given up on is Elise, my daughter. I’m still a mom. That’s gone on for over seven years now and of course I don’t have any intentions on quitting being her parent, but sheesh, I wonder to myself. My track record for follow through and finishing things is quite poor.
I have been struggling lately. I struggle when I don’t write.
For me, struggling is seething alone in my house in front of a computer screen, telling myself how useless I am and how hopeless my life is because I’m never going to be able to make my own dreams come true.
It’s gross and it’s ugly and sad and pathetic and embarrassing, but I am willing to bet that some of you know exactly what I am talking about.
Tomorrow this cool dude named R.J. Torbert is coming to the bookshop to do a reading and signing event. I don’t know if I am going to be able to go yet. If I do, I will probably have to get a babysitter, or else just try to get there early and leave quietly through the back if Elise starts making some sort of scene.
Elise’s behavior has been strange lately. She has her normal social issues going on at school, but she is really talking back to me more often now than she ever has before, and her language is getting quite colorful. Sometimes I forget I am talking to a seven year old and not a seventeen year old. I want to go to the event but I don’t want to cause a disruption if Elise cannot hold down quiet book-event time behavior.
Anyway, thinking about him coming to the event tomorrow night made me think about the Ghost Face mask, and the Scream franchise in general, and I thought to myself, hmm… hmm…
And then I started writing tonight. Not much, nothing to write home about (har de har har). 370 words, ripped out after midnight, because I had to. I had to. The words “writer’s block” were starting to creep into the back of my mind and I had to get them out! I had to prove myself wrong and I did, so good. That is a really good way to end the day.