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I started working on a new book last month but barely made any progress. It's so big and overwhelming and even barely a chapter in, all my excitement was overwhelmed by the fear of doing it wrong, of failure, of wasting time. By all the flaws I could spot and predict.
Considered switching to a different project that might be less intimidating, only to promptly be just as intimidated by that one. I look at my notes and outline and all I can see is all the places the book will fall flat, where I'll screw up on plot and pacing and worldbuilding.
Been watching haunted-house/possession-type horror lately, which revived and fleshed out a years-old idea, and within the space of 30 minutes my brain goes from "yes!! this will be such FUN! I should jot down some notes!" to "oh, looks like it'll be more of the same, why bother."
I just...I no longer feel like I have the optimism and motivation and excitement that are necessary to see a book through to the end. Does that make sense? When a you have is the slog and desperation and critical eye, a book is an impossible task.
I have so, so many ideas, and none of them are getting a chance to flower on the page. They wither and die. Smothered by the weight of their future failures.
I know it's a matter of regaining enthusiasm and quieting that critical voice inside my head. But *how.*
Specific advice from those who have been there is welcome (although I may not respond).
Specific advice from those who have been there is welcome (although I may not respond).
This career choice is very difficult to justify when it comes with this level of anxiety & desperation.
I'll be fine, eventually. I'll find the love. I'll lose myself in a book once more. But in the meantime, it's agonizing, and it's okay to be honest about that too sometimes.
I'll be fine, eventually. I'll find the love. I'll lose myself in a book once more. But in the meantime, it's agonizing, and it's okay to be honest about that too sometimes.
