Not every post I write can be about fun, kinky stuff. Sometimes they’re going to be about boring life stuff. Like this one.
I’ve been off work for two weeks, recovering from surgery. I go back to work today. And, believe it or not, I’m actually looking forward to it. No longer will I just stare at a blank document, wishing for some sort of inspiration. No longer will I do nothing but sit on the couch, berating myself for not doing any writing when I have all this free time. No longer will I be able to say I have nothing to do.
I suppose if my recovery had been harder I would feel less bad about this, but honestly it was pretty easy. I was basically fine after five days, and I had 16 off. Of course, the last time I had this much time off, I also didn’t write very much — just a couple of short stories. In order to find a time when I really made use of my time off to write, we have to go back to Thanksgiving of 2020; toward the end of that week, I had an inspiration and wrote an outline for the book that would become Training the Trainer, and even though it did take me six months to finish writing it, at least I had something to work on.
I also have two books I’m in the middle of that I’m writing under another name, but I’m completely stalled out on those and have been for quite a while. I went on a run in the early part of this year with a fantasy novel, but hit a wall; the sci-fi novel has been stuck for over two years. I even completely scrapped the fantasy novel and rewrote the twenty chapters I’d already completed, just to get more inspiration and improve the general craft, but now I’m stuck on chapter 23 or so (out of about 50) because I’m at a part of the story that I just don’t care that much about, but that is important to the tale as a whole.
I think the main issue for me is that I have no ideas. I get flashes, but by the time I sit down to write them they don’t seem interesting anymore. This is one of the reasons I do custom stories — and the reason that fanfic is so appealing to so many people: you don’t have to come up with everything. Sometimes all you need is someone telling you what they want, or an existing framework in which to work (like the Detective Daddy stories — I’m stuck in the middle of writing the fourth one, and have been for more than five years).
But all that’s over now. Now it’s back to squeezing in writing wherever I can — and it’s going to get harder when we go back into the office, because the commute is going to cut two hours off my day. And I’m supposed to start exercising more, per my surgeon. And I’m a parent. And I have a dog. And I have relationships. And I have to sleep sometime.
Back to work, I guess.