Skip to main content

Those Blah Days

Motivation. That evil little serpent that promises greatness then turns around and bites us.


We might imagine ourselves sitting on a balcony overlooking a serene Irish lough (pronounced lock) while we ponder the depth of life and the greatness of small things.

Most often, we're scrambling to find time to write, and hoping that when we do find the time to write, we'll have something witty to say. We look at prolific writers and wonder how they can write so many books. Honestly, I wonder some days if I am even supposed to be writing because while I enjoy it, the research, the writing and the emotional levels make me really wonder.

The past two weeks have been quite unmotivated. Now, part of this has been due to the weather since I can develop migraines from changing weather. Some of the lack of motivation has come from not want to deal with story developments. I know what the character has to face, and I don't want to face it. Some of the delay is a result of Easter, birthdays and other family activities. Some of it boils down to not wanting to write, or not knowing what to write, or focusing on other avenues of my arts such as the weaving. Some of it is simply being depressed from seasonal issues (really, more snow?!), and some from poor sales.

There is no magic pill to instantaneously become more motivated, or to write a better book. Writing, like all art, takes time, patience, practice and bull-headed determination. To be a true writer or artist, accepting the ups and downs of life are par for the course. To put it mildly: if you expect inspiration and motivation to carry you through your life, you really need to look into another line of work.

What motivates you to write may be a story. For many people it is simply one story. For others the motivation might be the dream of writing beside a bubbling brook in Ireland (very good dream, I might add). Finding your motivation is imperative. For me, writing is what I do - I tell stories, and I love exploring thoughts, questions and issues through novels.

Once you realize why you write, you must focus on your time. We're going to have blah weeks when we don't want to write. We're going to face health issues that limit us from writing. I had a cold earlier this year that completely knocked me out. The migraines I get are sometimes light induced, or at least make me light sensitive. In other words, writing on a computer is out of the question. When those times happen, I have to take care of myself. Learning to tackle writing from many angles helps when the times down surprise us.

But, how do you get back into writing after being down for a little while? For those in the middle of a book, diving back in works best. For people between books, writing works best. If you have enough information, just start writing. For others, editing, research or submission might be the best avenue. The point is - choose one aspect of your writing and work it.

In art, most people understand the term discipline is what you do. For some it might be dance, or it might be painting, but whatever the case the artist disciplines herself to create. To take the time to recharge, to focus and to do whatever it is that she does. Those blah days will come, but the trick is to work through them, and to use them to propel youself forward.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Chapter Four - The Board and Council

The town center was the oldest and grayest part of the town, though, even there the buildings were still colorful with the stone buildings being blue-gray, pink-gray and lavender-gray. In the center of town, marking the absolute center of the town, was a park area with a fountain in the center, the fountain led down into an underground grotto which was currently overflowing with people not unlike the fountain above it. “Looks like it’s connected,” Ramses said. “I think Mederei said it was had healing properties.” “That would be the place to look for the tapestries.” “Mama,” a child whispered loudly. Why was it when children whispered they yelled? “Why is that man so brown?” “Shh, honey, he’s probably from the capital region.” “No, Mama, they’re black, he isn’t. He’s brown, and scary looking.” The boy, blonde haired and blue eyed like his mother, was probably from the town. It was said that on the Isle of Caergwl├ón, the darkest were those in the capital and from there, they lost their color…

Winter Hiatus

It's really chilly here in Seoul at the moment, so I took advantage of my Christmas present to weave some more cloth. Also, due to it being the end of the school year (Korean schools run from March to February), I'm currently busy with finishing up school, and getting things ready for next year.

All that said, I'm taking a hiatus from Mederei's story until March. Thankfully, I'm not leaving you on a terrible cliff-hanger, though. Posting in January and February will be sporadic as I find the time to write while getting other things done. 

For those interested in the weaving, the brownish color has flecks of gold in it, but is a rayon, acrylic mixture. The black is cashmere I received back in Buffalo a couple years back. It's been woven and washed and looks freaking amazing. I think I'll make it into a dress.

Below is a photo from the light show in downtown Seoul. It was beautiful, but cold that night.



Stay warm!



Chapter Sixteen - Cafes and Puzzles

“What have you found so far?" Mederei inquired from the coffee shop near the hotel. They had finished their meal and wandered over to find coffee and explain what they had heard. Mithrilanna and Luna, who were still out and about, listened through their glasses. Mederei had propped her glass up against an empty mug so everyone could see each other. Well, when Luna wasn't shifting her glass at odd angles. "Not much, but I happened to find Thuweni earlier," Luna said. "He said that the prince is here to save the area from a five-hundred-year disaster. There's also a book about Damla Isle that Kiango loved as a child. You don't happen to have it, do you?" Mederei snorted. "Didn't even know he could read until a couple years ago." Ramses blew out his breath. "You're being more obnoxious than normal, Medi. What is with the two of you?" "Life in general," Caradoc assured him with a wave of his coffee. He set the mug on …