The Doldrums

Just polished off a book review. I have taken way too long to do this one, considering the book was finished ages ago, and getting out ahead of these things tends to be how I like to operate. Also, I get paid more. Which is plus.

Let's talk about accomplishments. Back in January, I had kind of a moment. I was watching an episode of "Always Sunny..." where The Gang wanted to buy some cocaine... actually, I think they wanted to by some pills, to sell, so they could afford some cocaine... which they actually sold to the guy they were trying to buy it from in the first place. Anyway, there was this moment where they needed to come up with the money, and Mac, Charlie, and Dennis didn't have any to chip in, prompting Sweet Dee to chime in with "How do three men in their thirties not have eight hundred dollars between them?"

I don't know why that bugged me, because I am neither three men [despite the rumors] nor am in my thirties yet. But at the time, my bank account was not what you'd call... ah, flush, and a couple of other things came up that made me realize building up a little money to have in the bank was not the worst idea for a New Year's resolution. So, the boy who never made New Year's resolutions made a couple, and that was one of them. I didn't announce any of them, not "officially" and if I have mentioned them, I'm sure I haven't mentioned them in this context and I won't.

Anyway, my point. And about a month and a half ago, thanks to a little luck, I achieved that resolution and then some, which is really no small feat if you're like me and you lack full time employment or the hustle which allows good freelancers to make full time employment money. I set a goal, and I accomplished it, and I feel better for it. A little padding. A little protection. Not a lot. But definitely enough.

And I feel okay.

Now, why am I mentioning this now? Hell, why am I mentioning finishing a book review, when that too usually does not make the blog in any significant way.

Honest fact, I kind of need to look on the bright side a little, as far as achieving goes. Which is weird for me. I generally find "achievers" kind of sickening. Oh, look, Facebook status message about what I got done today. Oh, hey, Twitter post of my word count. Oh, here, blog post on how you can be as successful as me. Gag. Fist pumping for accomplishment I get, encourage, and do not begrudge [and trust me, if you are suddenly worried I'm calling you out, I am not, and you are in this camp that I get, encourage, and do not begrudge], but celebrating achieving instead of the achievement, just for the sake of showing how well you achieve is what keeps talented folk up at night worrying that because they don't work like you, they are not really talented folk. But today, exception. I've done a few things. Need to focus on that.

Why? Good question. I'm suffering here, and I've been avoiding using the term "writer's block" so much that I think it's safe to say that is what has afflicted me. I don't feel particular well, talented, or creative. I spend hours staring at the blinking cursor, getting to a paragraph and a half and deleting... well, utter, unsalvageable garbage. I can't get traction, and I haven't really even had much luck when it comes to transcribing notes, or even doing edits on old work. The people I tend to have creative conversations with are not around, and I have not been seeing much movement on the projects I do have going. There are good reasons for all of this.

But I am... discouraged.

My plan to "fix" this is pretty simple. Rachael has sent me a script of hers to check out, which I'm sure will be excellent, and I have a stack of unread books, and a lot of comics to get through. It has always been my philosophy that the work of others is the best inspiration. I've also got a stack of notebooks and moleskins full, or at least half full, that I'm going to pick through, while hoping something can get me excited and working again. I wouldn't mind getting "The Tagalong" into a few more hands, either.

Because let's face it, I have not accomplished much - this blog has a lot of dead or unfinished projects cataloged in it, but that fact is so much easier for me to stomach if I'm producing. And right now, I'm not. I want to write. I'm trying. It's not coming. That's right, the kid who could barely function when his dad died, but could still start penning "Nova" can't write when he wants to. No. I don't care for that.

I've looked back at the last couple blog entries, and seen myself falling into that cliche habit of apologizing for not posting more. It occurs to me now when I do that, I am forgetting what this space is for - as it was not just meant to be a chronicle for my process, but it was meant to stand as a public forum where I could hold myself accountable to the projects I decided to undertake. Blogging less has nothing to do with blogging - it means I'm working less, and therefore I have less to blog about. As defeatist as the whole end of this post may sound, I am kicking myself the most for not remembering that. I blog when I'm writing. Blogging keeps me writing. This is not a chicken or the egg kind of thing that I'm talking about.

If it were possible to just flick myself in the brain for that one, I would.