Lack of motivation is killing me

For the last week I have had zero motivation to write. I have submitted a story, but I haven’t had motivation to continue anything I’ve started.

I’m not sure why this is. Oftentimes it has something to do with what I’m reading.

I had an idea to start another Grimdark novel, so I started reading Grimdark, but that’s grown boring and I returned to reading “Let The Right One In.”

I’ve seen both versions of the movie, and maybe that’s screwing me up in my reading of the book. If you haven’t watched either movie, they’re both good, and while I like the actors better in the Swedish version, I felt some of the scenes in the American version were better. Either way, you won’t be disappointed, especially if you like vampires.

But having scene both versions, I know too much about the story and when that happens the reading gets boring. I think the writing is great, however, I feel that having scene both movies, the story is too well known to me and I won’t be finishing it. Which I want to, but won’t. I’ve found it’s not worth forcing yourself through a story you’re reading just to have it listed on Goodreads as something you’ve read. I learned that from reading House of Leaves.

I have numerous books, some from my Nightworms subscription and others that I’ve purchased.

This lack of motivation crept its way into my bartending gig and the lack of motivation to deal with rich, entitled people and their weddings during Covid has reached its zenith and I find myself wanting to take a break from doing events but am financially unable to do so.

When you work catering events you’re going to deal with people who have more money than sense. There were 160 people at the event and the probability that they were all vaccinated in these United States is not good.

The event last night felt like one I did last summer, with a similar guest count. It was soon after that we stopped doing events with a large guest count.

I don’t want to say this summer is feeling like early last summer, but that’s how it feels. I like doing events. I like bartending, but I loath the people withe more money than sense.

But I digress.

I will change my reading material to something else because Let The Right One In is not doing it for me because I know the story so well.

I need to get back on track. When I’m lost like this those old thoughts come back. The feelings of I’m not good enough. The idea that someone will come and tell me I’m not good enough and I should stop submitting creep in.

I hate those feelings. They make me feel worthless!

But on to other things, better things. I have a couple of events this weekend and I’m hoping they go better than the last one.

I took some time away…and

I stepped away from social media, only checking things on my computer. The only social app on my phone is TikTok, and it’s for comic relief purposes.

This break from social media led me to reevaluate how much time I spend on Twitter and Instagram.

Instagram has pretty pictures and Twitter, well it has as much drama as Facebook, or at least that’s how it’s felt lately so I’ve taken myself off from there, only logging in every other day. I may miss a few things but my mental state was getting bad prior to leaving.

This time away let me solve the issues I had with the story I was working on and finally finish the first draft.

I know what I want to write next, but I may take some time to read, while I let the story percolate a bit longer. It’s not something I always do and I feel that’s caused problem.

The story will also need some help from a family member and I need to find the correct questions to ask her. The story is similar to the others roaming in my brain. The political/military thriller x horror is where I’m heading with my current stuff, and this one will need a bit of help with it to make it good.

This time away led to progress with the story and it’s helped me navigate my mental issues.

My ego is messing with me.

Twice a year, my ego screws with me. This comes in any manner of way, but lately, as I see other writers kicking ass, getting contracts, and generally doing better than I am, my ego is questioning what the hell is going on.

I know it’s my ego, that little bastard doesn’t shut up long enough to let me take a breath, much less acknowledge why and where I’m failing in my writing.

The thing is, I’ve been working. I’ve been writing and I know that I’m not sending things out all of the time, but I can’t. I have a life outside of writing. I have my wife and kids, and a bartending gig I do.

The bartending gig is something that pays the bills, but I’d rather be doing anything that bartending. That’s probably to do with how people are treating those of us in the food service industry. People became horrible in the last year and maybe they were always that, but something else has triggered them into believing it’s okay to act this way, but that’s another blog post.

I’d like to push things out of the way and get to writing, but I worry about neglecting my wife and kids. That’s something I did when I lived in Las Vegas and can’t to that route. I also worry about asking for things from people because, well, I’m not certain my writing is very good.

Ego is kicking me in the ass, envy is kicking me in the balls, and I’m sore as hell about it all.

I wonder if I’m doing something wrong. I’d like to take a break from bartending to focus on writing, but it’s the busy season for catering and it’s impossible to do that.

If I could find a crossroads that would work, I’d use that.

I’m so bent right now that I’m unsure of everything.

Am I writing well? Am I doing what I need to get noticed? Is there something I’m not doing?

All of this comes down to pushing things away and dealing with my mental issues.

I have to knock those back sometimes in order to gain some semblance of who I am.

The ego kicks my ass, but my mental issues do more damage.

Depression sucks, and I’ve tried to use it as a motivator, but I’m at place where my ego and the envy I have for others knocks me on my ass.

I guess I’ll keep going with this writing, but I wish I didn’t have to do these events sometimes.

The mental focus it takes to do these events and not scream at the top of my lungs as some half-wit berates me or my staff about how rich they are or that it’s their house and they can do what they want in their house makes me want to scream.

Some people are just assholes.

My ego is screwing with me and I’m working on getting it under control.

I’m planning on getting to this blog more often. I get stuck on things and then I try to get away and it just gets worse.

Anyway, have a good weekend.

Come and go

There are many times when I struggle with writing, but not many more than the last week.

I took a break from the novel I was writing to get away with my wife and kids. We spent a couple of nights in a hotel, observed Covid-19 protocols, and had a nice time.

It felt good to have some fun with the family. Then I got home and discovered I’d lost the threads of the story.

In the days prior, I thought that may happen, but tried to ignore the warning signs.

The story stopped at one point and I had to backtrack. I felt the story going in one direction, but I moved it in the direction I wanted and it felt like it was falling apart.

I told my wife this morning that I thought it would be difficult to merge the two genres I enjoy, political/military thriller and horror, but it’s a lot harder than I anticipated.

I really want to merge these two genres as they’re what I grew up reading, but hell it’s hard.

After I wrote a few hundred words this morning, I threw in the towel. The story as a novel is dead, though I’m going to resurrect that sucker as short story or novella.

I have things to work on. There are quite a few submission calls out there and I’ll work on those.

Not sure what’s going on.

There are days when everything feels right. That I’m doing everything I can, this is not one of those days.

I feel things crashing against waves that wash over me, tossing me into the surf, and slamming my head against the rocks,

It’s hard to figure out where it went. How it got so convoluted, and when it started to get worse.

I’ve tried talked. Things have been discussed but the rocks, the surf, and the waves striking me haven’t stopped. If anything they’re increasing in frequency.

I work, I write, deal with family, but I’m not sure it’s helping. I’m at the pit and the sides are muddy from the waves. I try to claw my way up, but there’s nothing to grab onto.

Sometimes things are futile and I’m not sure where they’re going and now I’m rambling because the words aren’t coming.

The words to explain that I’m trying so hard. Doing all I can but after yesterday, it feels for nought.

I’ll sink back into the shadows. Work through it because the choices are minimal I don’t know up from down