At the start of a story it is all excitement. The energy pulses through you. The pages seem to appear as if by magic. The words pour from some unknown place. Then life intervenes. You leave the page for a day, maybe two. Other stuff takes up your mind and the story, once powerful, is now just another task left unfinished. Another loose thread. I am living with two loose threads and to pull too roughly on either threatens to unravel my entire psyche. I am not in a great writing headspace. My partner wants to chat about it, and I think that is a good idea. Talking about story puts me back in the mind for story, but I need the space to be able to talk and then write afterwards. I have built myself a prison of self-imposed deadlines that break apart my day. None of them give me the time or space to write with any clarity.
This is obviously a frustration blog. I feel it is one I share with many writers across the spectrum of fiction and non. Life does not pause for our drafts. Ten minutes does not give us the space to create what we must. The answer then is elusive. For me it is also incomplete. I find moments when I fall into story, but those moments are built upon blocks of time with no other responsibility–not checking my phone to see how long it will be till I need to drive to the next place. That is a momentum killer in itself. Presently, I do not live a life that allows for writing in the way I want to write.
The move will change things dramatically. I will be able to have production on any given day instead of worrying about when I need to leave to get somewhere or when I need to get back in order to handle the rest of the business. I will just be able to be home, go into the office, and work for a while without worrying about having to get done. I haven’t had that for half the week for years.