I’m back at it! My Mexico nightmare is drawing to a close although I’m still not my energetic self. Monday morning I opened my manuscript file, though, and started working once again. It was the first time in three weeks. And it felt good.
Tuesday I did the same thing, rereading, moving paragraphs, adding sensory detail and cutting unnecessary words. (When you’re trying to finish a certain number of pages for your critique group, this is frustrating. Two steps forward, one step back.) Today I’ll do more honing of these pages that I’ll read tonight. Looking forward to it.
And so, obviously, I am congratulating myself for getting back to work. But I want to extend my kudos to all of those writers out there who know exactly what my struggle feels like. They understand the utter sadness at the end of a day when writing should have happened but didn’t. There is a gray blanket that covers the emotions and is supposed to hide all those negative beat-myself-up-thoughts, but doesn’t. While I am cooking up yet another meatloaf and stewing rhubarb, or vacuuming the already spotless floor, writing thoughts poke out. When I was a senior English teacher and had dozens of long essays or exams to wade through, my house was always its cleanest. I really know how to avoid.
Today, this week, I’m doing my thing. I’m writing first and then getting on with the rest of my life. Part of the reason for this is Sharon, who tirelessly encourages me by commenting on my blog and sending me emails with links to her own new post. When I see her moving forward, I fall into step, toss off that gray mantle of self-doubt, and get to it.