…writer’s block.
First the good news: I might have a writing gig. Unpaid, of course, and VERY early days yet but it looks good and I’m very excited. Now the bad news: I have writer’s block. For the past few weeks I’ve been willing myself to write and not actually doing any. On a Sunday evening I have forced myself to sit down and blog and, if you’ve been reading them I’m sure you will agree, they’ve been shit. For the past month or so I have done what I usually do in person when I’m too tired/distracted/bored to entertain: keep it light, pretend everything is fabulous and try not to invite too many questions. Anyway, after a few weeks I’m now officially sick of it. Trudi over at Hello Spacegirl wrote a great guide on how to overcome writer’s block; however, having given most of the steps a try I have come to the point where I need to identify the problem. So, in an attempt to write through the blockage, let’s take a tour inside my mind and see what’s up, shall we?
1. The Writing Contest
The whole thing started around the time I discovered I wasn’t on the longlist for The Bristol Prize. At the time I was my usual stoical self - bury any sense of disappointment, put on a brave face and smile through it - because I hate wallowing and have no time for self-pity; upon reflection, perhaps I should have allowed myself more than an hour to feel blue. All those years as a drama student taught me that having a thick skin was as important as having the talent, but there are times when keeping your chin up is more like self-flagellation. I don’t think this is one of them, but I do think it has knocked my confidence. For all my efforts not to get my hopes up, I wouldn’t have entered if I didn’t think I could win. Finding out I didn’t make the first cut is like losing The X Factor at the open audition, and I can’t shake the fear that somewhere my story is getting edited for a ‘laughable failures’ anthology. I would get right back on the horse but I’m just too busy, which leads me on to my second point:
2. Work
As we all know, I love my job (even if I do want to be a professional writer: it’s still nice to have a job I love in the meantime). Over the past few weeks though, we have entered one of the busiest periods of the year, and the traditional quiet spell that follows has been written off: this is an anniversary year and there’s something going on every other week over the summer. I love being busy, but giving it everything all day, every day leaves very little motivation or energy to start again when I get home. Perhaps I am calling it writer’s block when I should really be calling it fatigue. Or simple laziness. Do I really work that hard? Yes, I think I do. The other thing that is preying on my mind is my holiday in July. Three weeks in Australia, visits to my sister, Pippa, a winery, a beach holiday and celebrations on my birthday: why am I moaning? Because I’ve got so much to do before I go, and when I’m gone I worry about what I’m going to leave undone, and what it will be like when I get back. Isn’t that ridiculous? I know once I get on the plane I won’t give a damn but until then I’ll keep waking up in the night thinking of things that need to be done.
3. Social Life
Work is not my whole life, as you know: I certainly throw myself into having a good time, too. I can’t really blame my tiredness on work when I’m out every weekend and most nights of the week to boot. Writing group, squash lessons, squash practice, dinner with friends, weekends away, Deaf pub, work socials - the list could go on and on. I don’t think that I’m not writing because I’m partying too hard, but I do suspect that a lot of writing time goes on having fun. Indirectly, of course - I’m far more effective in the mornings, but by staying out all night I’m seeing fewer of those than I once did, and my effectiveness is somewhat compromised after a night on the town. Despite that, as reasons for blockages go, I don’t really think this is the one. I suspect it is a combination of number 1, and the real kicker:
4. Australia
Man alive, is this application ever taking some time. Now, I know that immigration is a big deal for every country but that doesn’t make the wait any easier. What make it more frustrating is that we have filled in every form and provided all the proof we need, so there’s nothing we can do to make things go any faster: we just have to wait for someone to go through it and approve or reject us. Moving to another country is daunting enough, but not knowing whether you can do it or not is even worse: how much time do I have left here? Is this the last Eurovision for a while? Will I still be here for Elsa’s birthday? Should I be thinking about a Master’s degree in the UK or on the other side of the world? How do you make plans for something like that when you don’t know if you are going or not, and when?! I loathe inactivity and the fact that I can’t do a damn thing is the most annoying part of it.
Maybe I should write about that.
