Bad writing week, or couple of weeks. Do you ever start writing and just hate everything you’ve written or typed down? I wrote about 124 pages of draft six of The Orb of ‘Unlimited’ Power and hated every word of it. I hated the new beginning and just wanted to print it out so I could burn it. And then I stopped writing because I thought “Oh, maybe this is just a burn out. I’ve been so wrapped up in this story, I haven’t given myself an official break away from it in a while.” So, I took on a beta reading job to try to focus on something else, but would occasionally go back to draft six to sneak in a sentence or paragraph in. But I hate going days without writing. I feel guilty because it’s become a habit. I really, really want to write. But the words are just not coming out and if they do they’re not the right words.
And I don’t know what to do. I’ve done everything I could think of to try to bring up or find inspiration, but it’s just gone . . . I don’t feel passionate about this anymore. And I want to. I really do. Usually when this happened in the past, my characters would be the ones to bring me out of it, but somehow they’re ignoring me. They’ve gone radio silent and I’m scared. Maybe they’ve decided to take a break and went on vacation somewhere and forgot to mention that they were going to be gone for a while. Or I’ve reached Writer’s Block, but that wouldn’t make sense because I know where the story is going and I know how to get there.
I don’t know what to do. Should I continue to “take a break” and then go back and see if everyone is back from their vacation? Or continuing writing? Or put this story in my Unfinished Stories folder? No. Never. It will never go into that folder for as long as I live. It’s like packing up your childhood toys, sticking them in an attic, and forgetting about them until you’re in your forties or fifties and going through the attic to clean it out, and then you find the box, open it, and say, “Oh, wow, there’s that old story I was going to write and publish, but gave up on it.” And then that forty version of me does the worst possible thing, well maybe two things. They either throw everything out into the garbage or through the shredder, or they just keep everything in the box and forget about it once more. So, no, I will not be putting the story in that folder. It does not belong there.
Maybe I just a need a break. Maybe I need to go on my own vacation.