The last time I wrote was July 2nd, and I don’t even remember that. It’s just over a month ago, but it feels like ages. Isn’t that how time is passing these days? Isn’t that what we all say?
I wrote about Camp Nano, which ended recently without me winning or even finishing. I wrote every day until the last week of July, and then I just… Well. You know. It seems like we’re all feeling that way, just like we’re amazed at the strange slow-quick passage of time. How do I even describe it? The feeling that nothing matters, that there’s no point in pushing myself to finish, that it’s not good anyway, that I don’t know where to take it from here.
It’s a misleading feeling, because I did genuinely like my story. My second story. I last wrote that I had been dreaming about high school, so that’s what I started writing about. A week, maybe, of my original story about an old lady, then pivoting to a high school story. And I liked it, even if it wasn’t as suspenseful as I originally thought I would write. I think it’s something I can come back to in a few months time.
For now, though, my mind is racing with other thoughts. Two competing ideas that I can’t stop thinking about. One I’m picturing as a short story or novella told in alternating points of view. One might be a short story in verse. But also, could these two ideas work together? Should I try to combine them, or should I push myself to complete two separate stories?
It’s been so long since I completed something longer than a poem, and I need to get to that point again. I’m having ideas like I did when I was in writing workshops, and I missed that feeling. I have it back and I don’t want to lose it. But there’s also that question of “why” that seems to haunt all my hobbies lately. Why write these stories? Who is the audience? Where could it be published? Will it make any money? Will it lead to anything? Why is it so hard to do something for pure enjoyment these days? Or is it just me? It seems like everything has to be monetized to be worth doing, and I need to shake that feeling.
But there’s something invigorating about following the ideas, seeing what will happen if I let them expand into what they need to be. I used to do that, I used to get an idea that wouldn’t let me go and then I would sit for hours writing and writing until the sun came up and I had to start the day over again. I don’t think that lifestyle is possible for me anymore, as I get tired by 9pm, but the feeling is still one to be harnessed so I can ride it out.