Can someone finish my revisions for me?
Honestly, I donāt know if theyāre ever going to get done at this rate.
Whatās really annoying, is I want to get back to Connor and McKenna and tell their story. I want to sit down and finish the revisions and edits so some CPs can read it. I want all of these things, so explain to me why I havenāt finished it yet. Why I havenāt opened the doc and just put my butt in a chair and done the work?
Instead, Shiny New Ideas are popping up left and right, begging to be written. Of course, I try and get the gist of them down on paper (so to speak) so I donāt lose them.
Like, can I stop having visceral, vivid dreams that lend themselves to be potential story ideas? Can I stop waking up from these dreams, filled with despair that they werenāt real? Can I stop feeling everything, including any touches that I dreamt up?
Why is my mind so cruel?
This stems from the fact that the other night I had a very vivid, very real feeling dream, where Iād found the love of my life, in a warring city, and I had to spy for the reigning government and testify at a hearing to get him back. Then I got him back, and heād been stashed away for who knows how long and didnāt realize that the city weād grown up in was in full war mode.
Yāall I remember the look on this fictional manās face when his heart broke for his city. I remember sobbing when I was reunited with him, I felt pain in my knees waking up from where I crashed to them, upon seeing his face.
Then I woke upā¦in a bedā¦alone.
What the actual fuck brain?
Probably needless to say, but I spent the morning writing down the dream, filling in potential plot and world details for this story that I may or may not ever write.
And I still havenāt touched my actual WIP that I should be working on.
I think it was the last Writing Update, where I talked about imposter syndrome, and how writing kind of feels ādamned if you do, damned if you donātā. I guess I still kind of feel that way. I guess the mouths on Twitter are still in my head. Maybe itās the constant barrage of āwhen are you going to finish writing your bookā questions I get from family members, who donāt quite understand what it means to write a book.
Maybe itās a million things, but the fact is, Iām still not writing, and I donāt know why. Iām terrified that itās because I donāt want to tell that story anymore. Or that maybe Iām not cut out to write a book, that Iām just kidding myself, and I should just resign myself to reading and reviewing other peopleās books.
Itās hard enough when the faceless people of Twitter are trying to dictate what people should and shouldnāt and can and canāt write. Itās another thing entirely, when the people closest to you, want to be supportive, but just donāt quite get it.
Maybe Iām just procrastinating and complaining because thatās easier than sitting down and making the changes I need to make. I miss being able to go to coffee shops, or Barnes and Nobles to write. I feel like, when Iām at home, there are a million more distractions, a million more things to do than write my book. But if Iām out, I feel like I have to be productive. Can I just blame Covid and the Pandemic for not finishing? That feels like a cheap excuse.
I donāt know. One of these days, I will finish these damn freaking revisions and people will get to read it. I want people to read it. I want people to fall in love with my characters. I want to be published. I want those things. Iām going to make it happen, it just might take some timeā¦I guess.
When I get back from vacation, Iāll put my headphones on, play some folklore, make some coffee, put my butt in a chair and do it. Iāll work on my revisions. Iām writing this to hold me accountable, for you to hold me accountable.
Hopefully your writing progress is going better than mine!