Why is it that right when you want it, motivation runs and hides? It buries itself under a rock in the garden like the spare key you hid years ago that you suddenly need and can’t find. You know it’s there, it’s lurking somewhere, just not where you’re searching.
I am meant to be working on my dissertation. Right now, this very second, while I sit here writing this blog post, I should be writing my story. My story that I’m excited about, that I think about, whose characters I love getting to know. But I’m not. I’m looking at the sunshine (can’t be outside, have to work) and beating myself up for not writing.
Partly it’s because it’s slow going right now. I know where things are headed but I’m full of questions. Partly it’s because my dissertation supervisor (the nerd in me loves to be able to say that) has tasked me with writing in a new way that will be very, very beneficial to me as a whole but is not how I write naturally. Partly it’s because I’m scared. I’m tacking some big questions, I have things I want to ask and things I want to answer, the plot and my kind of belief about human nature are all wrapped up together. (I was described by somebody I admire as being a “puir wee Calvinist” last night, and in this context I think it’s accurate.)
As with any artistic endeavour I’m split between being so excited about this project I can’t stop thinking about it and so petrified I’m going to screw it up (which I will! That’s what a first draft is for!) that I’m worried about starting. And then there’s the fact that writing it just feels like a slog. I knew this day would come, when writing would move from excitement to work but I wasn’t expecting it to come with this story.
Happily I just got a message from a friend asking what a bunch of us are up to because it’s “criminally nice outside.” Maybe I’ll procrastinate in the sunshine after all.
(Pssssst! I also had a ridiculous moment on a plane the other day. Check Love.Writing.Adventure. for details!)