I Can't Do This

I know sometimes I hate what I’m writing but then it passes. Or perhaps I hate a certain writing day. This isn’t that. Once again I’ve started something that won’t fly.

I have the awful feeling that I can’t write anymore. Some part of me is fed up with the whole process. It’s not that I have to feel pleasure all the time I’m writing. That would be unrealistic. But I feel no pleasure at all. It feels like I’m simply hitting keys. Writing for the sake of writing because I’m supposed to be a writer.

No, I don’t want to change careers. I think I don’t want to do anything. I don’t want to write. I know that I’ve always been a happier person when I’m writing, but not lately. And by lately I mean the last several years.

Is it because I know what’s going on in the publishing world? Because the chance of selling whatever I write is slim? I suppose these things could contribute to my not wanting to write, but I suspect there’s something else. I’m sick of it.

But I’m a writer. And real writers have to write. Yes, I’m a real writer. I’ve published many novels. I guess that makes me a real writer. Do other real writers stop cold? Get sick of it?

Many names of writers come to mind who haven’t published a book in years. Is this because they can’t get published? Or have they quit? And does it matter what other writers have done?

I can’t do it anymore.

A Different Kind of Hell

This is the hell of starting over and not getting far at all.  Hating the new start.

This is the hell of breaking all your own rules.  Peeking at the Internet.  Playing with programs.

This is the hell of not being any better on the second day.  Fixing the start but only for a short time until breaking the rules again.

This is the hell of knowing you have to go back to it tomorrow.

 

A Blip

It would be too boring to explain why, so I’ll say that something has come up that pushes my restart day to Tuesday.  Does anyone care but me?  Don’t answer that.

Almost There

I still hate Vista.  But the printer's working and I start working on Monday.

Hell

For me this is it. Setting up a new computer with a new (to me) operating system, and hating it. Also searching for programs on my external drive. Hell, I tell you, hell.

I've been doing this for a day and a half. I have a long long way to go.

My Monday writing start may not happen. I only have a day and a half left.

Update

The computer is arriving today. Now I can be sure to be ready for Monday.

Change of Plan

The new computer is arriving Friday. I just got an email telling me this. So I have to ask myself...what's the point of writing tomorrow? One day and then I'm into computer installing hell. And all the other stuff you have to do with a new computer.

But the good news is that if all goes well I'll be able to start again on Monday. I don't think it will take me more than Friday and the weekend to get it together enough to write. And be comfortable.

Yes, that's what I'm going to do. Not writing tomorrow .... making way for the Vista operating system. And paying bills. And figuring out how to write a note to Itunes and ask what to do about making my new computer work with it. Yeah, I know...this is a writing blog. Still, if anyone knows......

Best Laid Plans

Yesterday I sat down at my computer for my second day of writing. I turn on the hateful thing and what happens? Dread blue screen saying something about registry. I tried everything I know how to do and then rushed off to Best Buy. There I found out it was the motherboard and because my computer is a Shuttle they couldn’t fix it there. What it would cost to ship and fix was a lot. A lot. So I came home and bought a new computer on Amazon which won’t arrive until Monday.

As you can see I’m writing this. I’m on my laptop. And although I don’t like writing on it I’ll try tomorrow. But next week will be lost. At least a few days of it while I set up the new one. I won’t even go into the programs I’ve lost. The new one comes with Vista. Yuck. I’ll have to learn that, also. And how do I get Itunes to recognize me on the new computer? Nevermind, this is a writing blog.

But I do want to say that anyone who’s written me an email and I haven’t responded, please send it again. Lost all my mail, too.

The whole thing is very frustrating. Oh, I backed up my four pages on a flash drive so that’s okay. And I have an external drive that holds a lot of stuff. I haven’t lost any writing.

This sucks.

Did It

Four pages.  Don’t care if they’re good or bad.

And Once More

Tomorrow I’m going to start a new novel.  I’m very anxious about this because I’m approaching it differently from how I usually do.

I know the beginning and the end.  But I don’t know the middle. Normally I never know the end.  Only the beginning.  So I guess I never know the middle.  What makes me feel nervous about not knowing the middle is because I know the end.  I see that now.

If I don’t know the end then I don’t think about the middle.  There is no middle. I wish I didn’t know the end.

I have to approach this as though I don’t know the end and then see what happens. 

Usually I write a novel with a particular discipline.  Private Eye, Police Procedural, etc.  So I know how to get to the end.  That’s not true. I’ve written a number of novels that didn’t fall into any sub genre.  I’m making too much of this.

Here’s the thing:  I simply have to sit down here tomorrow and start.  What could be so hard about that?

Happy New Year 2008

It has to be better than last year. It does. I hope it is. A lot of bad personal things happened to me in 2007. But I’m still here.

As for writing, it was definitely a bad year. There wasn’t much. I had to put 200 pages, that I’d mostly written in 2006, into a drawer. I didn’t know how to work the con therefore the novel had to be put away. I have a feeling I’ll take it out one day.

I made at least one other false start. Maybe two. I complained a lot. I might have even whined, sin of sins.

On a positive note I had a short story published in the anthology A Hell of a Woman, and the story was picked up for another anthology of the best crime stories of the year.

But that year is over. And this year I’m going to start a new novel. Next Monday. I still don’t have a title. Not quite true. I have a working title but I’m not mad for it. Still, I’ll be able to make a title page and that’ll give me the feeling that I’m going somewhere.

I like the idea for this book. As usual I don’t know if I can pull it off. I wonder how many writers know for sure they can pull it off when they start? I always have a touch of fear that it won’t work. But because I’ve had such trouble in the past year I’m more nervous than at other starts.

So, next Monday I’ll sit down here and hopefully write a few pages. If I write three that day I’ll be happy.

I know it’s not going to be easy. And I know it has to be one day at a time. That’s all I know.