Well, it is Day #18, and yesterday I hit the ceiling on my writing. My writing muscles are very weak, and I have reached the day in my writing routine when they are just plain spent. I cannot lift a hand to write (or a finger or two to type). Words are not forming in my mind. There is just nothing… blank space baby.
Because of this discomfort, I am regressing to my proverbial “safety blanket” — reading. I am reading up a storm. I don’t want to put a book down. I went to the library took out 6 books about gardening, went to Goodwill and grabbed two more books, and went to the MSL 5-for-5 program and grabbed 9 YA books. I am rationalizing my inability to write today by saying, “Hey, you are a great reader! It is ok. You just have writer’s block. Everyone gets it. You are just reading so much to get inspiration.”
Actually, I am just procrastinating because I don’t think I can be a writer today. Actually, it’s because I don’t think I am a writer. I am just trying to be one. And right now, I am not succeeding. To take an idea from the book I am reading (Switch by C. Heath & D. Heath): my elephant is stuck in the mud, my rider is exhausted, and I lost the path.
I am hoping that tomorrow will be a different day. That I will find my muse again. That the rest I get tonight will rejuvenate my tired muscles… so I can last (and be productive) the 13 more days of SOL Challenge.