I have a two year old, but sometimes I'm worse than he is.
[Segue] I read once that athletes who participate in the Olympics tend to suffer from a form of depression afterwards. Especially if they have done really well by winning a gold medal or setting a record time. The theory is that they have worked so hard to achieve something, that when it's accomplished they feel a sense of loss of purpose. Was that it? Was it worth it? Was there a point to it all?
Something similar happens to me every time I enter a competition or submit a manuscript. I work so hard in the lead up to it, editing and double checking - not to mention the writing - that when I've finally sent it in I feel a bit down. Well, actually, a lot down. I can't help but wonder whether I'm not just wasting my time frivolously attempting to be a novelist when I could, say, take a second job working nights and help my family pay off our debts faster.
Last night I went to go write, and I just couldn't do it. I would look at the screen and just hate every word I wrote. In reality, I wrote about 100 words, wondered why they weren't all genius and then deleted them all. So I had a tantrum at how crap I was and went to bed at 8.30.
Hopefully one day I will be able to have the "Why do you bother? You're crap." thoughts and just keep writing in spite of them. At present, I just have to treat them like the flu. Debilitating, but after a couple of days you'll get back on your feet.
I wish there was a Lemsip for writer's block.
Word count - effectively 0.
No comments:
Post a Comment