Saturday's Storyteller: NaNoWriMo Update #2
Hey, everyone. This is the second update I have for my so far abysmal attempt to do NaNoWriMo this year. As of the evening of November 19th, I have written...once again...zero words.
There are a lot of reasons behind my failure to write. Half-baked story ideas, focus on my job, complete and utter anxiety and emotional exhaustion due to the political climate in my country. Things have not been good mentally for me, so I've spent a lot more time socializing with friends, family, and loved ones. Self care is the top priority for me right now, so that comes first.
Obviously, I have still been updating this blog, and I also have been working on slam poetry, while a good buddy and former bandmate of mine is coming up with beats to go along with my recitations. So far, I've written three slam poems, and I'm proud of two of them. One of course may or may not rip into the president-elect of my country. May or may not. Pay attention to that ambiguous statement, litigators.
Really, what it comes down to is the typical paralysis I have faced when it comes to completing larger and more complex writing projects. My emotional issues certainly contribute to creative stagnation on my part, and if I don't feel comfortable, confident, safe, or happy, then my drive to write and tell stories is the first to go. Dealing with my anxiety forces me to narrow the scope of my brainpower and capacity. I can handle conversations, teaching, performing daily tasks, and typing out the daily short blurbs and poems. Anything beyond that is insurmountable. Is it permanent? Of course not. But it's here now.
Were I to start NaNoWriMo tomorrow, November 20th, I would have to write around 5,000 words per day to reach the 50,000 word target. Again, not impossible; after all, I did write my first novel in eight days, and that was around 90,000 words. But I just don't know if I can do it at this point, given my energy and my mental and emotional state. I'd hate to come up with nothing because hey, that'll just make it look like I'm ditching Storytellers for the entire month of November. I want to get something down. Anything. We'll see what happens.
In the meantime, let's see if you can pull yourself out of this funk, creative side of my brain. Society ain't great right now, and climate change is a bitch (see: North Pole being outrageously warm, oh, dear God, we're doomed), but you can still write, can't you?
This is gonna be rough.
There are a lot of reasons behind my failure to write. Half-baked story ideas, focus on my job, complete and utter anxiety and emotional exhaustion due to the political climate in my country. Things have not been good mentally for me, so I've spent a lot more time socializing with friends, family, and loved ones. Self care is the top priority for me right now, so that comes first.
Obviously, I have still been updating this blog, and I also have been working on slam poetry, while a good buddy and former bandmate of mine is coming up with beats to go along with my recitations. So far, I've written three slam poems, and I'm proud of two of them. One of course may or may not rip into the president-elect of my country. May or may not. Pay attention to that ambiguous statement, litigators.
Really, what it comes down to is the typical paralysis I have faced when it comes to completing larger and more complex writing projects. My emotional issues certainly contribute to creative stagnation on my part, and if I don't feel comfortable, confident, safe, or happy, then my drive to write and tell stories is the first to go. Dealing with my anxiety forces me to narrow the scope of my brainpower and capacity. I can handle conversations, teaching, performing daily tasks, and typing out the daily short blurbs and poems. Anything beyond that is insurmountable. Is it permanent? Of course not. But it's here now.
Were I to start NaNoWriMo tomorrow, November 20th, I would have to write around 5,000 words per day to reach the 50,000 word target. Again, not impossible; after all, I did write my first novel in eight days, and that was around 90,000 words. But I just don't know if I can do it at this point, given my energy and my mental and emotional state. I'd hate to come up with nothing because hey, that'll just make it look like I'm ditching Storytellers for the entire month of November. I want to get something down. Anything. We'll see what happens.
In the meantime, let's see if you can pull yourself out of this funk, creative side of my brain. Society ain't great right now, and climate change is a bitch (see: North Pole being outrageously warm, oh, dear God, we're doomed), but you can still write, can't you?
This is gonna be rough.
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