So recently I hit this wall with a serious case of the Blahs. The kind that consume both my writing life, and more importantly, my regular life of family and kids.
It's not a mid life crisis sparked in people who are nearing...40.
It's the Blahs.
You eat Blah for breakfast. You work for Blah hours doing Blah things for Blah people. You exercise for Blah hours and come home to Blah dinner and watch Blah TV instead of writing because your story is: BLAH.
For me this means one of two things:
1.) My mind is trying to figure out the best way to improve the draft I'm working on.
2.) My story really is Blah and needs to be locked away in the drawer.
Most of the time, it's the first one. Sometimes it's the second.
I'd like to say that when I run an extra 10 miles, or do some wacky body contortion, or have my butt in my chair and stare at my book for two extra hours, that the Blahs fade away like fog in sunshine. But I would be lying.
Usually, it takes time. Because my brain isn't playing some nasty, unmotivating trick on me, it's trying to show me what to do...on it's own terms, in it's own time. So I don't end up with another Lost Story.
Does anyone else out there get the Blahs?