I’ve been spending a lot of time reassessing my motivation to write. With Autumn Leaves completed and the sophomoric book looming, the term “writer’s block” has become real to me – something I never thought would happen. What used to be 10,000+ word weeks are now zero and the joy of creativity seems more akin to burden.
Disappointment hangs over me, doubt weighs me down, and guilt pulls at my feet like an undertow.
The dark waters of failure that used to appear so distant on the horizon engulf me. Faint were the sounds of crashing waves now deafening...
Perhaps a little too dramatic.
After evaluating my process, I’ve come to realize that writing is my motivator; the language, the art, the expression. Maybe the salability aspect of publishing has harmed my desire to create. Just a thought.
I hereby vow to write what I want the way I did before with Autumn Leaves. The words poured out of me. I could barely contain them. Before query letters and synopses, agent blogs and writer forums, I wrote for me. Only me.
Whatever your motivation for writing, be it the love of the craft, the potential for glory, or even the ever-elusive payment, it’s the right reason for you.
Thanks for reading and wish me luck.