Slice 347 of 365
I did not feel much like writing this weekend. I didn’t feel like doing much of anything this weekend, so I didn’t. I fought with myself part of yesterday about getting the novel writing month writing done, because I was already behind. And the more I thought about it, the more it stressed me out. I thought, why am I stressing about this. Big deal if it doesn’t get done. It’s a great challenge, but if I’m feeling so pressured by it then something is wrong.
Part of it was I needed a place to go with the story. I need some thinking time, and the one thing this task doesn’t let you do is think. Writing that fast just doesn’t work for me. I’ll keep the story, and maybe keep at it if I can find a direction to go.
The more important thing is feeling that the pressure has been lifted. and it has, even if it was self imposed. The first few days were fun, but after that it started to become work, and it was no longer worth the trouble.
Hopefully, if the story flushes itself out out in my head, it will get fun again. All of it became work, and that’s where I started to lose it.
I’d like to find it again, but if it remains work then I don’t want it.