Ouch! It hasn’t been five whole months since I last posted, surely?
To be honest I was on something of a research binge. I became so consumed by research that I did in effect, lose track of time and place. I convinced myself all I needed was a little more, just a little bit more…
I wished I could say I have been typing away ever since, building my current book into a tome. As such, I am writing it, yay! But it has a long way to go before I can claim its finished. This is in itself beginning to give me palpitations. I am hoping to get the first draft done by November. With luck and determination, it’ll happen (fingers crossed). To be frank, in the past two months I would write for a whole day or two before becoming busy with baking bread, making traditional homemade lasagne, salads, and soups, that’s when I wasn’t shopping, doing the laundry or vacuuming; Some days I would just sit and read other writers’ books or dvd binge watch my favourite shows instead. Anything to avoid working my way through the research and writing in earnest. 😞
Why I chose to procrastinate is puzzling. Whenever I do actually get some writing done, I feel triumphant afterward. I’m all giddy inside, like a little kid on Christmas morning, as I go into the kitchen and make myself a satisfying cup of coffee. So, what gives?
For me, the explanation for procrastination is a mystery, and forever just out of reach. I can sense the why, like a vague memory pulling on me, but when I try to articulate it, puff… It’s gone. 😕 I suspect the reality behind why we procrastinate is far more pernicious that fear of failure alone. I think it’s the definition of self-sabotage, the ultimate
“What’s the point?!”
The internalised voice of contempt you’ve been subjected to over the years that now acts as your ‘mentor’ of self-destructiveness, hated even. The whispering in your ear…
“Go on, you can let yourself down… You can disappoint yourself willingly.”
“You’re not worthy or capable of anything else.”
Of course, it could all just be about wanting to avoid the harder part of writing; the re-drafting; the proof-reading, the editing, the sending off to agents/publishers, the rejection. This process feels endless, much like Prometheus chained to the side of the mountain forced to watch an eagle eat his liver every single day until Hercules came to his rescue.
Yep… It’s all coming back to me. No wonder I’m dragging my heels! 😂
Hey everyone, have a great weekend, and good luck with your own writing/creative projects.