stuff writers understand: when you don't know what the fuck you're doing
I've had no distractions.
I am at zen with the world and can sleep in and stay up as late as I want.
My main is levelled in WoW and I usually only game with my wife, so there's no real instinct to game for hours there. Skyrim is uninstalled and too much hassle to reinstall.
I have pizza. I have coke.
And, better than that, I have FIVE book ideas in my head where I have the plot already mapped out:
- The Shadow Realm #11: Nysta - The Destroyer of Dragonclaw (this will be fucking AMAZEBALLS! No spoilers!)
- Rise of the Fel Queen #3: Banshee Bride of the Living Dead (necromancy, spiritualism, and vampires in Queen Victoria's court!)
- SheWolf: The Demonic Claws of Hell (may end up being Rise of the Fel Queen #4)
- Jegga: Swamp Witch (title to be confirmed, but this is going to be FUN as fuck)
- Orsic: Flight from Darkness (Nazi UFOs!)
Amazing shit, and I know you're all excited.
So, why the fuck can't I write anything worth keeping?
I have started the Nysta book, which is a priority for me, no less than 10 times. Every time I think I have the right launching pad, the characters let me down by being criminally boring. Nysta is the kind of character who just refuses to play nice with people and it's a bit of a challenge settling her into this book where she starts (potentially) with three other characters.
She's being a pain in my ass.
So, I tried giving Jegga a spin, as this is a book I've had soiling my skull for a while. Jegga's more a witchcraft/soft voodoo character with a singular goal: to take over the world and enslave everyone. She's got big dreams, but she's now pushing past 40 and feeling like her dreams are slipping further away than getting any closer.
And so am I, because I just can't get this book to PUNCH me in the face from the starting blocks.
Thus, I'm doing what any self-respecting writer would do when they have too many goddamn fucking ideas and not enough fucking focus to really push one off the block.
I'm googling more hobbies.
That's right. I'm looking at Trampa electric mountainboards. I have a bustin maestro longboard, but I like the idea of cruising around on one of these. It's making me feel all erotic about the seaside trails. I can see myself making videos on taking my laptop out weird places for a bit of an afternoon tappy-tappy somewhere remote.
And NAS systems for my house to load all my DVDs onto so I can dump the physical copies. I'm looking at my book collection and wondering who the fuck would buy it or if I should walk out back and just burn the fuck out of them.
I've also been sleeping.
Lots of sleeping.
I get up.
Go back to bed.
It's really really depressing to know I go back to work in a couple of days and my single goal of writing at least half a book has been shattered.
And this is why I would have thought I could have written Jegga's story, but I literally have no idea what the fuck I am doing...
That's enough of an article. I know you were expecting solutions or advice on how to focus. But I'm not a fucking miracle worker and I'm not trying to scam you out of anything (though feel free to send me cashes by PayPal because I can't afford the mountainboard).
Let's try writing again, right?
I'm off to twitter instead.