Self-Absorbed Anxiety

I think it’s anxiety. It’s hard to tell because I’ve always been a multitasker. That’s a nice way of saying ADD for me. I have several stories in various points of completion. I can’t focus on just one and JUST GET IT DONE. I know I should, but I don’t. I also know I should type up what I’ve written in the two overflowing notebooks on my desk, but I don’t do that either. That’s an entirely different fight, and yes, that IS anxiety. I look at those notebooks and I feel the ache in the delicate bones in the backs of my hands from too much typing.

To finish a story – truly finish – I need to focus on just that story. Entirely, that story. Meanwhile, I’ve written four different and unconnected scenes for Nik and Leaf. I’m starting to really like those two. Translation: I’m tormenting them instead of just fleshing out hobbies and character flaws. I’ve rewritten the history for the original Nica (the character who I borrowed for another project and then changed her dramatically). She needs a new name now too, since “Nica” will always bring to mind the innocent-yet-not redhead with a thing for long-haired bad boys. I’ve written a dozen quick-hit summaries for new stories in the past week – ghosts in several forms, a pissed off Easter Bunny, a Tooth Fairy frustrated with her job, and a psychological mindfuck.

Yeah, I’m all over the place. I know. I know.

I’m enjoying Nik and Leaf immensely. They have a full story in my mind now, and not just the smut scenes I initially planned out for “No Girls Allowed”. (Yes, I will get back to that blog. That one is a bit more difficult to get to since I can’t type that sort of thing at work. Well, I could, but my co-workers already watch me warily when I’m writing in my notebook.) Nik and Leaf’s story, however, is not the kind of story I want to storm the world with. They’re cute and charming, but I have this horrid impression of any kind of romance writing. I don’t want to be there. Not yet.

What I’d rather be doing is working on my Jordan/demon/vampire Urban Fantasy. Gods! I hate that genre description. Dark Fantasy was tossed around for a while, so how’d we end up with “Urban” Fantasy. I keep getting undesired images of cheap rap videos about unicorns in my head when I see the term Urban Fantasy. Ah well, the truth is, despite my dislike of the genre name, I think my demon/vampire idea is the best one I have on my plate. It is also the one I’m not “into” writing lately.

It must be anxiety. I know I can do this – write a story that people will want to read. It might be a cult following and I have no desire to be a Best Seller, but SOME people will be interested. I keep dragging my feet on actually accomplishing this goal despite this confidence. I need a looming deadline to light a fire under my ass.

Just do it, wench!

Why, I think I will. Right now.



2 responses to “Self-Absorbed Anxiety

  • Shadows

    I know the feeling, I’ve got too many fires burning, and they all are substandard, save one. You can guess which one that is. Make me mad. I do so much better when fueled by fury.

    oh, and rap videos with unicorns? Brill!

  • Grégoire

    Dear Sister Pia,

    I need a looming deadline to light a fire under my ass.

    I’ve missed at least 40 percent of all the deadlines I’ve been given in my life. I remember in my youthful foolishness standing in many a line at Federal Express to overnight this project or that one.

    Eventually I got a more realistic attitude, and either kept working until I was damned good and ready to submit, or if they were jerks about it, I submitted a half-finished project on time and let the copy people deal with that shit.

    People in the journalism/literary world never pay you enough to be worth the stress. My advice: don’t. Take your time, do what you want, and enjoy the process. If it ain’t fun, it’s not going to be worth reading in the end anyhow.

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