I take place in at least eight different writing challenge/contest/exercises weekly. And a few more, irregularly.
It keeps me creating, when I don’t feel creative. It keeps me experimenting, when I don’t feel inspired.
But lately it’s seemed like a lot of blah.
Images that don’t thrill me, topics that do nothing, obvious ideas that seem too trite, motivation to create zero.
Maybe I took on too much? Is writing something on the order of a thousand (at most, two thousand) words a week really too much? Doesn’t seem like it should be.
Am I just burning out? Non-thrilled by the not-brilliant fount of ever-flowing ideas gushing eagerly forth?
What happened to the fun and amusing ideas? Why so serious, Dave? When did you start getting so critical of your hobby? Delusions of grandeur not working out?
Probably just run down this morning (I’ve got a dentist appt., that’s never bright for the life outlook). Suck it up, drama queen.
Anyway, I need to go get my teeth drilled on now, that should be more fun! Weeeeeeeeeeeee!
Pure Digression: (“Yo I saw a squirrel run across the street and he didn’t get hit by a car so he was like ‘Weeeeeeee!'” Thanks, Albino BlackSheep.)
Postscript Addendum: Dental fun fun fun fun all completed. Perhaps now I can stare at the blank page, flipping between the websites containing my prompts, and invent something fabulous?
FABULOUS! (*Two snaps*)
Damn I’m such a slave to pop culture.
I have been informed this post is not SeriousFace enough to be allowed through a certain website’s Gatekeeper Standards. I am heartbroken, of course. I don’t mean to be rude but…”LOL.”
5 thoughts on “At last count”
I sometimes feel that way.
Oh damn it Gonads and Strife is SO stuck in my head now.
In the lightning..
I only commit to two flash fictions and one other challenge per week, and that’s more than enough for me.
Hope the drilling went okay!
It went fine. Back to staring at the blank page.