This is late, but I've got to get myself back in routine. One week off can kill your blogging schedule.
College application got in. That's good.
I wrote for 8 hours last week when I committed to 10. Not good. I'm not sorry; I was at a 50-hour worship extravaganza. Not the whole time. It was so good. Hard to explain what worship is like, even for a writer. Can I just say that it tasted good? I didn't want to leave.
And I didn't write 10 hours, and I didn't send 20 queries, as I promised. Not even the ecstasy of writing compares to worship extravaganzas, but the fact remains that I failed. And I don't like it. That I failed.
Writing is coming hard for me. I've alluded this off and on over the past few months. Ever since I finished TWT, I haven't been able to find a passion for anything. I've jumped from the TWT sequel to a historical fantasy to a...dystopian, I guess it is. I'm not sure anymore.
And it's the most frustrating thing I've ever encountered. I've been writing since I was eleven, and I used to always adore it. That's what I did in my free time. I would finish my tasks and start writing. And now that writing is my assigned task, now that I've completed TWT, a book I was hopelessly in love with, I don't know what to do.
I think it's a feeling I'll have to come to terms with. My life is changing. Writing isn't leaving. I'm very sure of that. But how I write is changing. Why I write is changing. Everything is changing.
This is turning out to be much more of a journal entry than a blog post. My apologies. Maybe no one will read it since I'm posting so late?