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Friday, November 05, 2004
If your tolerance for whining is low... do not read further....

First of all let me say, I have very little to whine about.

The love of my life will be here a week tomorrow for FIVE weeks. My son is the greatest child who says he loves me every night. And not just because I say it. He says it first, usually a long drawn out sigh followed by "I luv yew mommy," as he snuggles in closer. Because I snuggle with him each night. "Kin you hug me?" he says, and I obligingly lie down and cuddle for a few minutes, always guiltily slinking off after a few minutes because I know if I stay longer I'll fall asleep.

But I need to whine for a moment because I'm not a prolific writer, nor am I jaw-droppingly-superior, nor do I seem to have the energy for the effort. But lately I have gone beyond apathy and moved into the land of not caring. It's not that I think I'm a horrible writer, I mean, I've managed to write a couple columns a month for over two years, and my editors like me - and tell me they like me... but ... oh I just don't know!!

It starts when I read all of these fabulous blogs: Kira, Joshilyn, Lemonade Life, Shelley, Linda, Lani & Co, oh I could go on and on.... I mean the things these women write ... from sweet little vingettes to moving essays, from political commentary to coffee spewing hilarity... there's always a bit of everything.. and it's all so good. They are writers. They are also thinkers. And they have motivation I am lacking. And they have discipline. And I just do not.

I've signed up for NaNoWriMo, and it's just not going well. There have been some very real things that have impeded my journey... like spending 6 hours at the Children's Hospital with my son last night as he had a low grade asthma attack. Yep. Low grade. Apparently that cough that has lasted six weeks was a sign. A sign that I'm first in line for that Horrible Mother of the Year award. To defend myself, it only turned asthma-ish the day before yesterday... but I swear the doctor had this look in her eye.. the look that says, "if parenting required a license, I'd revoke yours".

I just have a lack of passion in the writing field at the moment. So there's a lot of passion that is focused somewhere else... ahem.. but what is with the writers block? Or writer's apathy, or writers boredom....

I think I have an idea... no one to write with. Nobody. No buddy. No one cheering me on. (I told you this would get whiny) But I'm an externally motivated person, that's just the way I am, I can't change it. The bf, now he's all about internal motivation and the rest of the world can suck a lemon, but me? I'm needing something from the world.

There have just been so many personal highs and lows in the last few months that I'm not sure what level I'm at. I need something. I am just not able to identify it.
  The Writing Mother
  posted at 2:27 PM
  1 comments



1 Comments:
At 9:37 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said...

Pffffffttttttt I say! YOU are the one who is jaw droppingly superior here, my dear. Remember when you let me read your last NaNo attempt? And how I begged you to write more because it was just THAT good? Get writing, chicka, cuz this is one person who will buy anything you write.

 

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