Tired

There's an urgency as of late. Like I'm rushing to beat the clock and I must get certain things crossed off the list. And this mindset has made me hyper aware of my slow writing pace. It feels like I'm psyching myself out.

I'm tired. No other way to put it. By the time I get the quiet time to sit down and write, my brain feels like mush--too much like mush to channel two other characters' thoughts and concerns. But I push myself to do it because I want to make the most of this time.

Posting on Lit has given me a sense of accountability. It was hard writing in a vacuum with only one or two people to talk shop with. Knowing that there are readers out there who are entertained and curious about the characters makes the writing feel less solitary and keeps me going when I wonder if the story really matters. There's a sense of community that isn't there when you're writing for yourself and by yourself.

At the end of the day, it matters to me. But it's the sharing that's special. And so I sometimes feel bad that I'm not cranking out a new chapter every week. I question if I should have held off a little longer with posting until I had a five chapter lead. Then I remember with Jac said about not letting her writing become a source of stress.

And you know what? At the rate I was going, I might not have gotten to chapter five for several more months. I had gotten into a crippling habit of over-analyzing every word and every paragraph. In this new chapter, there's a stronger forward momentum. In some way, my readers have become my invisible partners. They push me further than I think I can go.

So I end this post feeling grateful.