Crossroads

I have reached a crossroads in my writing career—if you can call it a career.  For the second time in as many months, I have reached a crossroads in my writing career—if you can call it a career.  For the second time in as many months, I have put aside my story, unable to continue.  In the past I have been able to harness my disappointments, and depression, and boredom into serious creativity, but lately I just can’t seem to get myself into the zone.  Too many things have been weighing on my mind, including a situation in which I am an innocent bystander, being lied to each and every time I try to rectify someone else’s oversights.  It is no fun when people play fast-and-loose with your life.  I mean, there are scenarios in life when we do things—all of us—with few thoughts to the consequences.  However, I really needed this opportunity, this chance, and as the months pass I know it is growing father and father in the distance.  When you need one piece of the puzzle to fall into place and it won’t, it’s pretty darn frustrating.

But back to my writing.  I sent out books to three different entities recently, in this hopes that I would be reviewed favorably and possibly even sold in an important store.  Still waiting for feedback, be it good or bad, on all of them.  At least there’s something to hope for.  I hope. 

Adaptation

My last novel was written in twenty-one days, which may or may not be a statistic worth repeating.  With the current one, however—I am 23,000 words into it—I find myself being a lazy writer, not having added any text for the past three days.  I think my lack of initiative may be the result of several different factors:  indifference to my last two books, lack of attachment to my current characters, or perhaps a loss of my writing inspiration.  I can clearly see my hero and heroine, the progression of their relationship and its ultimate endgame, but I don’t think I’ve been happy enough lately to give anyone else’s story its proper conclusion.  I have grown increasingly disenchanted not with writing but with lip service. I have eagerly been anticipating the paperback of my published novel for months now, as I have plans in my mind to promote it to a magazine with a large readership and wide coverage.  As the months pass, it seems increasingly pointless: if the book is ever printed, I will ship it for review, but it becomes a question of timeliness; will anyone care if the book is a year old by that point?  Have I missed my chance to make a big push and have people by the book?  I know all authors—all people, really—must multitask, and I can do it as well (or as poorly) as anyone.  But it’s very difficult to accomplish your goals when you have so much on your mind.