the truth is hardest to admit to yourself

i've fallen off the blogging bandwagon in a major way. i'm not here to apologize for it, because i think it was necessary, but there it is. i even missed my own first year blogaversary, which was a little sad. let me try and put the reasons into words.

at first i was on a hiatus. i was a slave to social media, and it wasn't good for me at all. i knew that i needed to live my life for real, instead of living it online, so i put the computer away. but not only did that cut me off from social media, it cut me off from writing. and...i wasn't sad about that.

i thought that meant that i was a bad writer, or not cut out to be a writer, or something else like that, and so i hid it. i went through the motions, and forced myself to write once or twice a week just to say that i had, and pretended like i was making progress. but i wasn't. not even a little bit. then april came along, and i didn't touch my wip at all. and i still wasn't sad about that. i didn't daydream about it, i wasn't brainstorming or outlining or researching. in fact, i buried it and didn't think about it at all. and it took a conversation with one of my crit partners to realize that i was avoiding it.

i don't love that project anymore.

that statement is by far the scariest realization i've ever had. it means that this manuscript, this idea that i've been cultivating and shaping for a little over six years, isn't worth my time anymore. it's not working. i don't love the idea enough to stay with it. and just like with any relationship, you shouldn't stay if it doesn't make you happy. the coolest thing about making the decision to walk away though, is that other authors have done that too. and they're okay. i read two posts today about authors abandoning their first books, and they both went on to be incredibly successful.

and, in the words of my wonderful crit partner, maybe that story served a different purpose than i thought it did. maybe it was meant to teach me how to write. maybe it was meant to introduce me to my writing group. maybe it was meant to teach me how to let go. to say goodbye and move on to a new idea. of which i have none, by the way. O.o

so what will i do now? i'm working on writing prompts until i find an idea i fall in love with. i'm waiting for some passion. i'm writing a short story about a tree that becomes a man, thanks to a young girl's love. it's weird, but beautiful, and i'm finally excited about writing again. i'm daydreaming. i'm making progress.

what are you doing?

j