So! I ended up hearing from my friend; we got about 1300 words written, actually. But I haven’t gotten anything else written, and it’s starting to… not worry me, exactly. Make me wonder if I’m avoiding it. Because writing with her, it’s fun and it’s engaging and I get what Stephen King (well, Paul Sheldon) calls the gotta; I gotta keep reading, I gotta keep writing, I gotta get more of this done. And this is a really good feeling, don’t get me wrong.
Just beginning to wonder if I’m paying so much attention to writing this way because it drowns out the fact that I’m not writing for myself. Or writing out my own ideas, rather. There’s the morgue story, there’s that crime one I was hacking away at (well, plinking away at, really), there’s the mushroom story, there’s the other mushroom story, and none of it is getting done.
(Heh. Came in to work an hour early. Half an hour left before I can actually start. Fiction writing done? Zilch.)
I get upset when I don’t get things done, and the light of my life occasionally reminds me that it’s okay. What’s the worst that can happen if I go out and try to write and get distracted? I don’t write and I read or play video games instead.
I think I might be forgetting that the worst is I don’t write. Okay, yes, not a tragedy. But I don’t write, and then another day’s gone by and I’m no closer to finishing anything and closer to not having any more time.
I just wish that was motivational, rather than depressing paralyzing.