It’s one of the great ironies of my writing that I am often motivated to write by fear, uncertain times, or when my confidence has been shaken. And — with the tragedies in Japan, the possibility of a looming global economic turndown because of it, and me still trying to get back into my old daily writing habits — there’s more than enough negative emotions to go around.
So, predictably, I have written 1,000 words already this week Monday-Wed when my previous productivity has been about 700 words for a full 7 days.
But of course this comes with a cost, too. My query letters are small, terrified, things cowering under the sofa behind the dust bunny and my daughter’s lost toy. I don’t say “Hi” to strangers much any more, I can’t think of anything funny to say in conversation so I don’t say anything at all.
Perhaps this unconscious self-isolation helps throw me into the world of the novel. Perhaps not. Perhaps writing is a refuge for me from the nighted world.
Whatever the case, at least I am writing again. Now if I could only have my self-confidence and my writing too!