I am a writer and a blogger.
Therefore, the majority of my down time should be geared towards advancing those twin themes of the written word. When I sit down in front of my computer, I should be doing so with a clear and coherent plan of attack based on those two mediums.
If writing is the topic du jour, then I should be working on the following sub-topics: re-writing a short story; continuing to work on my next novel; continuing the submission process with my last novel.
If blogging is the topic du jour, then I should be creating enough blog posts so that I can work on the first topic without worrying about disappointing my friends and readers over the lack of fresh blog content.
Instead, when I sit down in front of the computer, I am unable to access that twin plan of attack. Why? Because the current mind fuck that the real world decided that I really needed to have in my life, is wrecking havoc on me in more ways that you can possibly imagine.
Case in point: What I really wanted to write about today was part three of my series of posts called "The Stubborn Side Of Writing." It's been well over a month since I last touched upon it and I thought that now would be a good time to revisit it. Especially since that I'd promised everyone that I wouldn't touch upon my novel for a few weeks, and that I didn't have anything else to write about for the moment.
So I re-read my last post, saw the teaser at the end (Why I Chose The Various Components That Went Into The Creation Of The Story), then took out a few sheets of paper and got ready to write.
Try as I might, no insightful thoughts about why I chose that particular course of direction or those particular elements for my chapbook came to me. Instead, the only thoughts that swirled around my head were the events that happened two weeks ago and how the upcoming days and weeks would unfold as a result of those events.
Ditto for when I gave Dandelion Tears a whirl.
I sat down in my den late Saturday evening (April 2nd) with the basic intent of either working on the short story that gave birth to 4 chat room personas, a presence in the chat rooms for 4 years, 5 blogs, a multitude of half written trunk novels, my last novel and my current novel; or my current novel.
I chose to work on my current novel.
So I took out my current novel in order to re-familiarize myself with the current plot lines (got about three or four, I think), opened up the binder and began reading from the beginning. Sure enough, within less than a minute, instead of letting what I wrote enter my brain by gently knocking on my temple, the events of two weeks ago played the roll of the big bully by pushing the novel to the ground and kicking sand in its face before barging in to set up shop.
And yes, the end result was pretty much the same: zero thinking about the novel and 100% about what happened two weeks ago.
So now I sit here contemplating the direction I want to go with my writing, and quite frankly, it bothers me.
On one hand, I can try to weather the storm the best I can and wait for it to clear up before taking another stab at working on my latest project.
Or, I can try to work in the obviously strong emotions that I'm experiencing right now and take my book in a direction that perhaps that I didn't envision when I started writing it to begin with.
And let's not forget about blogging. What happened to me two weeks ago is invariable going to affect what and how I write stuff in my blog. Will my blog still have that same carefree yet pointed outlook on the world around me, or will my blog now have something of an unidentifiable edge to everything that gets posted from this day forward?
What it boils down it is that I'm now at a crossroad with my writing/blogging and I have no idea on which way I should go with it.