Weekly word count: 2800
It's been a rough week creatively. It started out reasonably well with a few good sessions but then life took an abrupt turn to the left. A rough day at my day job left me dispirited, my son got sick and needed some Mom-cuddle time, and then my own bout of illness. Unfortunately, it shut my imagination and determination down.
I've weathered these sorts of things before. As I wrote a few weeks ago, I'm no stranger to fighting my way through depression. But it bothers me that this week breaks an almost 3 month streak of making my weekly writing goal. It actually bothered me so much that I dreamed about it.
I dreamt I was setting up my table at a conference, one with a number of my favourite authors: Tanya Huff, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Jessica Andersen, among others. I was so excited to be counted among them. I had everything arranged and was feeling proud. I pulled a box of books out from under the table and opened it up to find an unfamiliar cover and title. I pulled out another, panic beginning to build, and found another unfamiliar cover and title. I kept trying, pulling out box after box and not finding my own novels. I felt horribly ashamed that so many of my writing heroes would think I was unprepared. And I felt crushed that I didn't have my own books. I woke up near tears.
I try to pay attention to my dreams. They're my emotional early warning system, telling me that something is brooding beneath the surface. Now is the time to deal with it, keep reminding myself that reacting to life is not a character flaw and, most importantly, make sure I find the time to get back to the keyboard.
Next week is going to be a challenge, with all the holiday prep that needs to happen. But I will find the time and get myself back on track.
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