Failure

writer-depressed

So it’s NANOWRIMO…. Every year I have the best intention to write every day and complete a lot of writing work. And every year I fail horribly.

I tried really hard this year but as each day went by, this giant wall just hit me. I can’t write. I haven’t been able to write for a long time. It seems like it’s been this way since I finished The Underground Dogs.

I thought I broke the block the other day when I came up with a new plot for one of the novels I have going on. It doesn’t seem like it, though. I still can’t seem to write anything of the story.

I can’t seem to write anything at all.

I don’t know why, really. I think some of it is that I feel disappointed that The Underground Dogs isn’t selling as much as I hoped it would, so I have this feeling of “What’s the point of writing anything if no one is going to read it?” Another part of me just always thinks my stuff is crap, and then yet another part of me is so let down at the fact I’m a tiny drop in an ocean of other “writers” trying to get their words out there. (I wonder how many of them are really storytellers though?)

I just don’t know what to do. I just hope I can force myself to sit down and write something soon. It’s making me very sad and I think it’s just making my depression worse and worse…..

Harvesting My Brain Juices

 

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Fall the Red Door-Manning Street, Philadelphia by moocatmoocat

 

We’re well into it, but Happy Fall, everyone! Huzzuh! It’s my second favorite month: October. (It’s also my birth month. ^_^)

Last year fall (and winter) was a hard time for me because I hit rock bottom as far as my depression and anxiety goes. This year, I am staying positive and looking forward to the new adventures and opportunities it will bring. Plus, it’s freaking gorgeous outside.

My new job is going well. I love the place and the people, and the work is great. I’m doing lots of editing and writing. Thumbs way up. I’m so thankful.

I’m very excited for next month. It’s National Novel Writing Month!

logo_of_national_novel_writing_month

I don’t know if I’m gonna follow the rules and write a novel, but I’m definitely going to sit down and WRITE. The other day I had a great plan to rework a couple novelettes into short stories for my sci-fi collection. I’m still three stories away. I don’t want to rush it or anything, but I’d like to finish the collection by end of the year. (My old goal was by end of summer, but, well, yeah…) I haven’t been working on these novelettes because I’ve been concentrating on the short stories, but I’ve hit a wall with them (no ideas). Then I realized, “Wait, these novelettes are sci-fi and I really, really want to write them. I know, I’ll turn them into short stories! I can always go back and make them longer later if I decide.”

So that’s my plan right now. You’re excited for me, I can tell. Shucks, thanks, dolls.

I’m also working on coming up with more tips and tutorials, too. (Don’t worry, that hasn’t totally faded away.)

What about you? Are you participating in NaNoWriMo? What are you going to be working on?

Angel With The Robotic Arms

Shitty Fact #2,847,942: I’m not the only unique starfish in the sea; there are many people who want to be a professional writer, a famous author. And we each think we’re the special one. We each think we’re the prettiest fucking raindrop gracing the earth with our presence. Doesn’t matter. We all fall into the same ocean. We all drown with each other. I’m not unique, creative, or the next Great American Author. I’m just another desperate bipolar schizophrenic with a pen.

Unrelated but related side-note: I finished a short story for NaNoWriMo. I was pretty excited when I started it, but by the end I realized it’s a piece of shit. And not because it hasn’t been edited. It’s just plain shit….It is an odd, out-of-body experience to read your own work and see it for what it truly is…

#woeisme #idon’tcarethati’mwhining #nowiwanttowatchmetropolisforsomereason #thisisnothowyouusehashtags

Angel with the Robotic Arms
JCD Kerwin

we’re all just broken ‘bots
that walk
in sad, grey lines,
in time
with each other.
but with each new tick
and metallic tock
of the Doomsday Clock,
we’re pulled off shelves
and bought,
second-chance
from second-hand
shops. we’ve got
no regrets except
that we gave up on ourselves
long before this world.

(Dec. 2014)

The Sun Looks Brighter from the Inside of a Jail Cell

So that publisher rejected my ms. Not altogether surprising, I know. But, eh, it’s okay; it was rad that they even asked to read it….Also, I’ve already sent a query to another one. (I got a list a mile long! The industry will be so sick of my name after I’m through with it! HA.)

Anyway.

The rejection doesn’t even bother me (though it sucked). I’m bothered by my own creative apathy. Not sure what’s going on, but I can’t and don’t want to write anything. Except I have tons of ideas. I just don’t want to write any of it because I think there isn’t any point; it’ll only come out like shit anyway. Stupid reason….The whole shebang is kind of like being stuck in a jail cell, except you’re not really stuck because the door’s wide-open, and you could escape if only you took a step.

But.

Reading all your stuff is rather inspiring. (Though, also more depressing because your stuff is helluva lot better than mine.) So, maybe I’ll try to write something. NaNoWriMo is coming up, too, and I’d really like to do it this year instead of making up grandiose excuses for why I can’t do it. What am I gonna do instead? Watch TV? Nothing good is on anymore…’cept “The Black List.” That show’s cool.

Also, I’ve been binge-Netflixing (that’s a fun word) “Luther.” Check that shit out. Now.