I know writer’s block. I’ve seen writer’s block. This funk I’m in is not writer’s block.
In my experience, writer’s block is the emotional hell of wanting to write, but being unable to form the words or find that creative thread. The image that links to this is the cliché of sitting in front of the laptop, blank screen oscillating, and not having a single word pop to the forefront. Sort of like insomnia of the creative mode. Having struggled with writing fiction for (gulp!) 30 years now, I understand my moods and difficulties completely. What I am facing now is not at all like that.
I have good ideas. I have momentum. I’ve always had direction and plot and characters. Sitting down and hacking out 3,000-5,000 words is easy for me. I’m a fast typist and it’s simply of matter of translating the images in my head onto the paper. I know that the moment I place myself in front of my laptop, the words will easily pour out.
So, if I don’t have writer’s block, then why haven’t I written anything in weeks?
I know what I want to write … but I simply don’t want to write. I have no desire to continue onward with my current novel. Not out of boredom – I still believe in this idea and the project as a whole. My snag is a lack of energy and determination to forge ahead. Maybe it’s the mid-project blues?
However, like I said, I know myself as a writer. This happens a lot to me. It will pass. I will (soon) sit down and continue onward, due to pure stubbornness.
Until that moment arrives, this blog will basically be me bitching about how I’m not writing. Maybe the boredom of writing on this theme (and you reading it!) will get me moving?