Trying to do too much?

I’m the queen of great ideas and bad follow through.

I’ve been watching/listening to a lot of videos about writing, craft and business, and I’ve come to realize that I’m not only putting the cart before the horse, but I don’t even have a horse, or a cart, or a road, or a place to go. Outside of my three Kindle Vella series, I’m a bit scattered, even though I’ve talked about various projects here before.

I’m the queen of great ideas and bad follow through.

I think that’s why the Kindle Vella series appeal to me now. I’d had a hard time finding a following on other serial sites and, while, the market seems dominated by steamy romance and LitRPG (neither of which I write) I decided to take a gamble.

Then I quickly became overwhelmed. And started having new ideas. Then over-overwhelmed.

The natural step after over-overwhelm is paralysis and then I get into a funk and don’t do anything at all. You can give me plenty of planners, systems, motivation, even people to sit with me while I work, but I won’t know where to go. And the one thing I’m bad at is the one thing I need to be good at: finishing my shit.

I even started a NaNoWriMo group focused on Finishing Our Shit Stuff and then abandoned it after a week or two. (Sorry, y’all. It’s not you. It’s always me.)

I’ve been thinking about all the half-finished, partially-started pieces I have saved and wondered if I could dedicate myself to finishing these pieces and putting them out there, whether indie publishing them under this pen name or submitting them to publications under another. Who knows? But it’s a challenge that I have only failed in the past.

Nowhere to go but up, as they say.

What I am doing now is reassessing each week what tasks actually get me moving forward. Writing is always a Definitely. Other things, not so much. So, more writing. (Yeah, I’ve been here before and this time may not be different, but there’s only one starting place and that’s where the starting starts.)

Good luck to me. Good luck to you.

So dark it’s nearly empty

It’s been a long time since I could write. I have so many reasons, but they all boil down to I just didn’t care. I didn’t care about the stories. I didn’t care about myself. I didn’t care enough to finish. I didn’t care enough to start.

Something changed, though. Maybe the weather, maybe my attitude. Perhaps it coincides with a break in my day-work load. No matter why, the change happened and I felt like the person I have always thought I was.

I am still plagued with self-doubt. I am still worried that I will be laughed at. I still hide behind a pen name in case it all goes to shit. But I have started again and I will finish. There is so much I can look back on and say, “if I only had tried.” I don’t want to do that anymore.

Today I put the finishing touched on a thriller outline and wrote the first 500 words of the story. It’s a step, a tiny step that I hope to repeat day after day. Why only 500 words? I needed a reachable goal. The outline was nearly done and I formatted it into Scrivener. Then, the first scene and a half just poured out. It’s almost as if the act of writing¬†something gave me the inspiration/energy/moxy to keep writing. It’s the oldest advice in the world: if you want to write, then you have to write.

Untitled Novel as of 6/6/17: 554 words