I am having a bit of wobble at the moment. Technically, I should be all smiles. Looking for Buttons is out in the world, selling fairly steadily. I am A Published Writer, albeit a DIY one.
But.
But but but but but.
It's said that everyone has a book in them. What if Looking for Buttons is the only one I have?
I want to write. It's what I do, spinning yarns when I'm not knitting them. That's the image I've always had of myself. But when I sit down at the keyboard I can't string a coherent sentence together. I've re-read what exists of the Difficult Second and Third Novels. They seem to have been written by someone else. It's like watching Bradley Wiggins win the Tour de France. I can ride a bike but no way could I do that. I get the same feeling as I run my eye along the bookcase. I've lost my writing nerve and with it part of my identity.
I hope this is just a temporary blip.
Stiffen upper lip, brace yourself, pull up your socks, summon up the blood and pull yourself together. What you are suffering from is a case of Done it successfully once, must have been a fluke, I'll never be able to do it again. A common breakout of one type of Writer's Angst.
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And a very good blog post you made of it too. :-)
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