Brain-damaged

Dear Steven Pressfield:

I am going to have myself checked for brain damaged.  I don't know why I don't write every day.  When I do write, I feel good afterward.  I feel accomplished.  Even if everything I write is dreck, I know it will end up helping out in the end (if nothing more than to get the dreck out of my system so something good can come along).

On the days I don't write, I don't feel like this.  I went 600 words over my word count goal.  My back hurts because my chair sucks.  I write at the tiniest writing desk.  I forgot my wireless mouse in the living room, but I wrote 600+ words because - I couldn't tell you why.  The demon monkeys from the back of my brain say it's because I'm competing with other writers (and I may be too, but that isn't the whole reason like they vote). Maybe the two worst influence at my paycheck job are gone; I can stay a bit more positive at work. I would like to say it's because I wanted to feel good.

I like feeling good.  I'm going to try this again tomorrow night.

Sincerely,
Me

Add meat or cut the fat

Dear Steven Pressfield:

When creating a first draft or rough draft, is it better to be sparse or bountiful?  When editing, should I cut or add?

Yeah.  No one answers THOSE questions.

Sincerely,
Me

Fall in love

Dear Steven Pressfield:

After reading some other writers' recent blog posts about the joy of writing, I have decided I need to return to my love of writing.  I am putting the fear and worry away.  I am giving up hopes of being respected or even read.  I am focusing on simply enjoying myself.

Can I schedule falling in love?

Sincerely,
Me

Done

Dear Steven Pressfield,


I have finished editing the first part of my novel.  It needs a lot of work.  Should I edit part two, rewrite part one or plot part three?


Sincerely,
Me

Energy

Dear Steven Pressfield,


I have been putting my time in.  No matter how tired I am after dinner, I have been editing my novel.  Last night, I fell asleep with my pen on my print out in bed I was so tired.  I even put a light on my notebook I use for backing.  


My current problem is energy level.  I understand what you say when you have to fight.  I have many writer demons.  However, my daytime job has been very demanding lately.  By the time I come home, I am exhausted.  Finding the energy to fight my demons has proven difficult if not impossible.  The work goes slow because I don't have the strength to tell myself that all first drafts suck and it can be better because I'll fix the next draft.  


From your stories in your book, it sounds like you didn't have a daytime job or a husband or a child that needed your attention.  Maybe you did.  I wish you had a chapter on how to deal with the guilt.  Missing Watergate - who cares?  Missing a birthday or homework or connecting with a spouse creates an awful amount of guilt.


Sincerely,
Me

The first post is the hardest

Dear Steven, Pressfield, 

I feel like a kid picking at her dinner plate.  All that is left is vegetables - yucky ones like brussel sprouts or steamed green peppers.  I use my fork to push the unwanted and undesired food around the empty plate.  The echoes of my mom's warning, "You won't leave that table until your plate is clean!" echo in my head.

That's how I feel when I sit down to write.  One of the tenants is "It's not the writing part that's hard.  What's hard is sitting down to write."

Yes, sitting down to write is hard.  I can come up with fifty thousand excuses, some very valid, on why I should put off sitting down to write.  I play flash games.  I stack dishes.  I call people I've been avoiding.  I am truly amazed with what I can come up with as reasons or excuses not to write.

However, I find it is just as difficult once I set my ass in the chair and pull up whatever I'm working on.  I have to fight a whole new set of demons who are dead set that I am the most horrific writer that has ever lived.  After winning the fight to sit to write, all I win is another fight.  And after I defeat the "You Suck" demons, I have the demons who want to nitpick everything and the demons who wonder what's the point of writing when no one's ever going to read it.

And on and on it goes. Row after row.  Fight after fight until I end up that disinterested writer just pushing unwanted and undesired words around my clean page.  

I am writing this blog because I have no one I can talk to about writing.  So, I am going to pretend you read these so I won't be so alone and won't worry that I will fail as a pro because I don't have a support circle or safety net.  I hope you don't mind.

Sincerely,
Me