Lackluster

Another November, another NaNoWriMo. I find myself entering this year's goal with a lackluster manner. Almost a "meh" mentality. Like I can't get myself to be excited about writing. Which seems so strange. After such a phenomenal year my senior year of college where I spat out book after book, I don't know how to get myself back onto the bandwagon.

I look back at my writing life and think about how it all happened. If I'm honest with myself, I see a pattern forming. I write a book (or several), and then take a five year hiatus where I don't write much of anything. That's what happened before. I wrote my first draft of my first book and then didn't do squat for close to three or four years. Then I word-vomited five books and a novella in a year. And now here I am, struggling to find the words to even write a short blog post.

I don't know if this is due to a lackluster view on life that I have at the moment, or if this is due to simply a lackluster view on my writing. You're always your worst critic - or so I believe - and because of that, I think I, like many others, am prone to thinking too little of myself and my talents. Part of that is simply because I don't want to be big-headed. But there's something to be said for having at least a little pride in what you do and how good you are at it.

So, essentially, I'm going to tackle another NaNoWriMo and this year my hope is that when it's over, I find myself enlivened to write something new. Or at the very least, to really reengage my pursuit of publishing. I lost that fire pretty quickly when none of the agents responded or turned me down. Which seems silly, 'cause I know that there's always a million no's.

If I'm brutally honest with myself though, I admit that those million no's have 100% gotten to me in the worst way.