It is not Writer’s Block, Persay,

More like I am just a lazy ass. So here is my recent progress on my book: 0.23 words.

Okay, maybe not lazy, more like overwhelmed.

Here is where I am, I have to write the fluffy ending and then rewrite the entire book. I hate endings. The action is over. The story arch is complete. I don’t want to write big romantic scenes about the main characters wooing each other. I hate conclusions on papers and I am just not a fluffy romantic scene sort of person.

I know I can do it. I know I can do it with some sort of humor that makes it decent. It is just daunting.

Then there is the second draft. I am basically going to have to go through the first draft and write the book all over again. That is okay. I can do it. There is just so much of it. I love what I have rewritten so far. I just need to shut up and write. It is just daunting. Daunt, daunt, daunt.

I think I am going to walk through wal-mart mumbling that to myself.

daunt, daunt, daunt.

What really annoys me, really really really annoys me, is how needy I feel. I feel like a needy whiney ass baby. I should write because it is my goddamn job. Everyone else I know goes to work and does their job because it is their freaking job. I hate that I feel like I need someone holding my hand and stroking my ego. It frustrates me. I have had people tell me how awesome I am my entire life. It feels like weakness and whiney bitchness. I want to bounce up and down in my seat and say “Buuuuuut there is just so much.” (Insert dirty joke here.) I hate needing validation.

Me: I don’t know what to write.

Mom: How about the end.

(Helpful)

Tell me I am pretty.

I know this too shall pass. I do. I know I will power through it and get to the other side and write a fantastic book, or at least a not too shitty book. I just want to stomp and kick and scream. I just want to whine. I don’t want to put on my big girl panties.

Okay, yes, I do. I love writing. I love being a writer. I love it even though it makes me feel needy and daunts me. I love it even though it makes me feel crazy when I am so absorbed into the world that I am writing that I can’t function outside of that world. No, I love it because I get absorbed into the worlds that I am writing.I think my problem comes when I am not writing. I need to stop fighting the whiney and whine then get my ass over it and write.

Damn all those overachievers in my life. My sister is pregnant, puking, miserable, and still manages to be a spectacular mother and be something important in her company. Tina has two little kids and a husband off on deployment and still manages to be supermom, super daughter, super bff, photographer, graphic designer,and awesome dance mom taunter. Sara works full time and runs half of an internet empire. I feel like a pansy for whining about writing.

So, here is what I am going to do. I am going to put on my tennis shoes and work out, then do my best to woman-up and write the shit out of a fluffy ending. I will whine in my head the entire time, I will just have to be okay with it.