When everything gets too much, I just stop

by VelvetFletcher on January 16, 2014

in Writer Life

There’s a point of overwhelm I reach when I’ve got too much work to do. I throw my hands up in the air and do nothing. Manuscripts gather dust, my brain chases tumbleweeds and I hide in a corner with a book and a pointy stick to poke anyone who demands too much from me.

It’s not the most sensible way to work, but there it is, and here I am. Between writing (paid and pleasure), editing, and family commitments, I have my fingers firmly in my ears, singing LALALALA at the top of my lungs while everything piles up around me.

I printed out my manuscript for a hard edit just before the heat wave hit, and I’ve done nothing with it since.

It’s a first draft.

It’s terrible.

But, in amidst my frantic need to restructure all the sentences, I can see bits which are good. I think it might work, if I can get my act together to start on it.

My fingers itch, and my brain hurts, and I stamp around the house with everyone avoiding me, because I’m not a nice person when I’m not writing.

I talk to my husband. He asks why I’m not writing any erotic shorts for publishing right now. Why I’m updating my blog instead. I wonder too, but then I wonder if anyone will read my books if I don’t prove that I can write first. How can I expect people to pay for my writing, when to them, I’m unknown and unproven.

So I write flash fiction and hope I’ll find an audience, I talk on facebook and hope I find like minded people to talk with (spoiler: I did). I bake cakes, and drift around the house, aimless and unable to settle.

Soon, the heatwave will break and my brain will return. I’ll shake out the tumbleweeds and dust bunnies and start again, start anew. I’ll write more and not feel perpetually guilty.


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