It was a dark and stormy night, rain and lightening thundering around you and you're all alone. You drive through one rather large puddle, then another, you hit a pothole and then it happens. Once in a while when you least expect it, disaster strikes and you find yourself in mud spinning your wheels. Try and try as you might, those wheels aren't going anywhere fast, just kicking up mud. All around you, however, the world seems to be going along as usual, cars pass you by one after another, too busy to see your pitiful self just spinning. No one is traveling with you, no one really knows where you are going and what the destination is, you are on your own....literally.
Writing seems to have a very similar feel to it, you are the writer and no one else knows what is in your head much less write your next article or paper for you....you are on your own. Day after day, week after week, you watch as all the other writers continue to buzz along busy as bees keeping up, getting it done, and being productive. But there you are feeling fairly defeated and unworthy of the crowd you once found yourself in the midst of. Some say there is no reason for your state of wheel spinning, others say, 'ah, it'll pass, just start writing anything and soon it will be like your old self again.'
What happened that I have found myself in this position? A cross-roads of sorts, I guess. Maybe too many choices and changes around me. Change and I don't like each other very well. I recently got a part-time job and am wondering if I should apply for another one in a completely different genre, also somewhat up my alley. But writing has been my really passion for the past 4 years, no money ......well I did get published in the Canticle Magazine a couple of years ago, nicely paid, too. But far from that now, I would like to help and pitch in financially around here.
Surely everybody gets into theses little skids now and again, I think I'll get over this funk and get back to work, it was just nice to vent alittle.