I’m back at CampNaNoWriMo, Camp NaNo for short. It’s the second summer session for the virtual campers to work on books. I’ve signed up for 30 hours of revising (yet again) Mythos after my beta-reader went through it.
I’m feeling the heat of the summer deep in my bones, weighing me down with indolence and a total feeling of “meh” about writing. I don’t feel hopeless about being published, I don’t feel distraught about not being published, I just don’t feel like much of anything, especially as regards writing. I don’t like feeling this way — ok, I like not being drenched by despondency, but I rather miss that belief that something could happen any day now that could result in a writing career.
Perhaps this “meh” feeling is what I end up with. If that’s so, then maybe it’s time to give up writing. I know, I keep threatening (or promising) to give up writing, and I don’t. But if it ceases to spark something in me, I may have to find something that does.
This might be depression — I’ve been struggling with that for a while, no matter how happy and bouncy I look. I have an eye on it.
Words Like Me 