As a kid, I loved reading Treasure Island. I was in a fifth-grade reading group, and we worked through the novel together. We learned a lot of cool terms, including the “doldrums.”
Lately, I feel like I’m stuck in that belt of windless waters, just praying for a small breeze.
As I noted in last week’s post, I’m trying to figure out how to take more risks on the page and really let my heart and soul come through in my writing. Doing so requires some vulnerability and trust. And I’m not comfortable with either.
In other words, I’m stalled on my current WIP, and I can’t seem to get out of my own way. I’ve tried spending some time revising a short story while the bigger project ferments, but I’m at that point where I’m convinced everything I write is drivel.
I’ll attend a writing conference soon, and I hope that talking with other writers about our craft and the writing life might be the kick in the pants that I need.
I just hope I can keep my impostor syndrome locked away in a dark corner during the conference. That annoying voice that constantly trash-talks my writing needs to take a vacation. Or simply permanently retire. Either way, I need her to shut the hell up so I can get some work done around here.
I won’t be attempting NaNoWriMo this year, but I wish the best of writing luck to everyone who is taking that plunge. May your muses be generous. May the housekeeping gnomes or elves be friendly. And may your mugs always be full of your favorite writing elixir.