You know what I want to do?

I want to shop for sparkly Christmas decorations.Image

I want to drink a fancy coffee drink.

I want to get my nails done.

I want to sit on my ass on the couch and re-watch all the Black Mirror episodes in one afternoon.

I want to sleep for a week and get my hair done and go for a walk in the woods because the weather ain’t too bad here.

Ok, so those last three might be difficult to accomplish at the same time but this is my fantasy so just let me have it, ok?

Know what I don’t want to do?

I don’t want to be a writer today.

ImageI don’t want feel that constant nag along my spine that tells me that I’m not doing enough.

I don’t want to have to track my submissions and send query letters out to remind editors that I exist.

I don’t even want to look at the hot mess I wrote during NaNoWriMo because it is long and it is ugly and it needs about ten years of revisions before I’d even consider showing it to another living soul.

I don’t want to have to try to figure out twitter because internetting is hard, man. And, I don’t get it.

I don’t want to face a blank Word document or that stupid blinking cursor. I can’t bear up to the task of creating something someone might want to read from the fractured thoughts in my own head. Not today.

I’m sneezing a lot. And, I have a migraine. In all honesty, I am really very physically unwell. I am not sleeping at night lately. Listless, if you will. There is a funk in the air. I’ve got this terminal case of snarkiness building up in my bones and I don’t know why or how to get rid of it.

And, oh boy, I really can’t stand my own whining.

When I started this web site, I told myself I wanted to use it to showcase my work, to build my “author platform” (whatever the hell THAT is. Would I know it if I saw it??) and to make some attempt to remain positive about the whole experience. Cynicism is way too easy and I’ve been a victim of my own pessimism for far too long. But, I also said I wanted to be honest about the whole process – so today is my official Poo Pants Blog Post.

I got poo in my pants, people. I don’t like it.


Maybe it is post-NaNo let down? Maybe I’m feeling impatient for my reality to catch up with my ambition? I have been told by those that know me best that I’m never satisfied. I like to push things because I like to make things happen. And, when I can’t control that outcome, I begin to display those kinds of personality traits that are really only socially acceptable in toddlers. I have the Terrible Thirty….mmm…blarghs.

Some times, I lose the thread on all the really wonderful things that are present and accounted for in my life. I have eyes in the front of my head and I can see clear to the horizon. But, I can also let myself be blinded to everything but that horizon. That kind of yearning breeds the exact dissatisfaction I am feeling right now.


Why is it that artistic ennui feels so much like plain old depression? 

Giving in to this kind of negativity always breeds more regret. Time lost and wasted. Opportunities missed because my vision narrowed, even for a moment. It is a sick twist of self defeatism. But, I have things to get done. Two short story contests have caught my eye. I have my writer’s group meeting on Wednesday. Class – and homework in the form of new short fiction due – on Thursday. I have ten stories out for submission currently, and duotrope is telling me several pending responses are overdue. I have a 159 page NaNoWriMo manuscript that is in desperate need of a weed whacker.

So, I’m open to suggestion, at this point. I find it helpful to hear what other writers do to clear away the blues and get back to work. What do YOU – yes, I’m talking to you – do? No suggestion too obvious or ridiculous for the likes of me. In the meantime, I’ll just be sitting here, watching the horizon. Fighting off a nap. 





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