I've been trying to write this post for three weeks. I've started it any number of ways and then:
*delete* *delete* *delete*
Sometimes I struggle with how transparent I want to be on this blog. I tread through the murky waters of what's too much to tell, etc. I want to be interesting. And I want to be honest and I don't want to be depressing.
The truth is, I've been having a really hard time with writing.
There I said it. I mean, it really should be obvious. I've all but abandoned this blog and I'm not present on Facebook much. And twitter? What's that. ;)
It's not the act of writing, per say. I'm not suffering from a block. The words would flow, if I wanted them to. In a way I do want them to, but...
See? There's always that infamous "but."
I got too caught up. Involved in other peoples success. At some point my happiness for others turned to jealousy.
I'll admit it. Jealousy is natural, I suppose. It's not productive, though.
And then there's the crux of my crisis: Where am I as a writer?
For years I've felt like I was a YA author. It's in the title of this blog. I love YA. Let's be honest, though, it's not like I've been uber successful at it. I have to question myself as to why not.
YA has never come as naturally to me as writing, say, a paranormal romance or urban fantasy. But the stories that were choosing me all ended up very YA. It's the type of story I naturally gravitate toward writing, though the voice is not.
A quandary, all right.
On one hand I have a YA MS that is pretty close to being there. I do need another rewrite (one that I'm not looking forward to, but can be done). On the other, is pursuing YA what I really want? It's certainly not the only genre I love.
I was never any good with changing the labels I chose to wear. Not that I haven't changed labels before. This seems harder somehow. It has put me in a space that is undefinable for me at the moment.
That's not all I have going on right now either. There's a lot of other persnickety things that have cropped up in my personal life.
I've given myself a timeout. I stopped reading (most) blogs, stopped twittering, Facebooking, blogging. I've spent an inordinate amount of time playing WoW (such mindless fun! when I'm not being ganked by 80s.) and reading.
I'm just about there, I think. I've gotten the self-doubt under control and the joy of creating back. I want to write again which is most important, I think.
However, I'm still struggling. And will probably continue to struggle for a while.
There you go. Honesty. I feel a little better now.