I started working on a new book last month but barely made any progress. It& #39;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& #39;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& #39;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& #39;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& #39;ll be fine, eventually. I& #39;ll find the love. I& #39;ll lose myself in a book once more. But in the meantime, it& #39;s agonizing, and it& #39;s okay to be honest about that too sometimes.
I& #39;ll be fine, eventually. I& #39;ll find the love. I& #39;ll lose myself in a book once more. But in the meantime, it& #39;s agonizing, and it& #39;s okay to be honest about that too sometimes.