So I
have been in a bit of a funk these past couple of weeks. The kind of funk that
every writer knows. The kind of funk which makes you hate every single thing
your mind comes up with and every single thing your mind has ever come up with.
Maybe you have one thing you are excited to get to in your story, but to get
there you have to write the most excruciatingly boring plot anyone has ever
spit out. Like writer's block except all consuming.
Novels
die in the funk's wake.
Seriously,
the last time I was in a funk I thought there was something physically wrong
with my brain.
I'm
trying my hardest to survive this funk without abandoning my current project, erasing
my hard drive, and setting fire to my computer. So far I've been successful.
I've also been successful at procrastinating at writing even though I have free
time for the first time in weeks. Another symptom of the funk.
To keep from deleting the 34 measly pages I
have written in the past two months, I'm trying to focus on the elements I like
about my novel. The little parts that might actually survive past the first
draft. Writers are a lot better off looking at the things they like rather than
the bottomless holes where their creativity goes to die.
P.S. Don't tell me that "funk" isn't a real word.
1.
a strong offensive smell
2.
a depressed state of mind
I think that pretty accurately describes
what I'm talking about here.
