Last year after having written blog posts every day (except vacations sans computer) I suddenly had the compulsion to write two books at the same time. And then something happened: they lost all appeal or energy. The manuscripts feel like corpses as if nothing I do can possibly put back any life into them. Two half-finished drafts sitting there. I found this extremely disappointing.
Now I am taking a humor writing class. Whenever I am not writing about psychology but merely do the exercises the writing is often fun and more polished. I could be frustrated but this is the winding road. Books, movies and quotes all prepare us for the obstacles, the set-backs and the illusion of smooth sailing from A to B. While I don’t believe in the suffering artist or workaholic entrepreneur myths the hiccups are to be expected. I have to grow from writing short excerpts to big ass books. No surprise there. Everything is okay.