I’ve been gone so long, WordPress looks different. They changed the fonts and there are arrows where there didn’t used to be and stuff is 3Dish and it all makes me want to cry. I’ve been gone for so long and I’m literally forcing myself to come back.
I’ve lost my mojo.
My writing mojo, that is. No, General Mojo is gone, too.
I have no motivation, no inspiration, to write. When I sit to think about what to write about, my mind explodes like someone poured Diet Coke in one ear and shoved a Mentos in the other like it was a suppository and my ear was a butt. And then they shook my head around while their buddy filmed it on their cellphone because THIS IS GOING TO BE AWESOME AND WE’RE TOTALLY GOING TO YOUTUBE THIS. And then? Kablooey. Liquified cokey brains, everywhere.
It’s been the longest drought of writing since the first month Avery was born and I was stuck at home with a rubbery baby who never slept and suckled my teat every moment of the day and night and a two year old who showed no mercy toward her frazzled mother. I had excuses back then for not writing. Not now. Not unless you count the cokey brains.
So, I don’t know what to do. I’m pretty depressed about the whole thing. I mean, not DEPRESSED depressed, I do have perspective about it. This IS just a blog, not my livelihood or anything. Proportionately depressed. Because writing, especially fiction short stories, is something I adore. Creating something out of words that didn’t exist before I thought of it is one of my very favourite things to do and this feeling I have where I CAN’T (or…won’t because I don’t think I can) is brutal. If I could grab this feeling by the throat, I’d punch it in the face for being such a mean jerk. And I’ve got big hands and thick bones, so the hit would really drive my point home, which is STOP BEING A JERK, YOU GOITER.
I’ll be back soon. I’ve got a challenge I have to write this week. Once this jerk of a wall I’ve hit cracks a bit and lets me get on with it, that is.