Been thinking more about my utter lack of motivation to write lately, and it hit me that I haven’t been entirely honest with myself. I mean, I’m a lazy ass. That’s just truth. That’s just not all of it.
There’s a thing that I keep pretending like I can get away with not doing, though, and I’m about at that point where I need to stop pretending. It kind of sucks. But it’s something every single writer who talks about the work says they had to do.
I need to start saying no to friends and stay the hell home and write. I need to say no to hanging out, no to getting drinks, no to anything that means I don’t get something out onto paper. All my talk of needing to buckle down is kind of shit, because when you get down to it, there’s always a friend I haven’t given enough time to that I should go grab a beer with. Drawing a line at this point is cutting something off that I don’t want cut, or at least that I feel guilty about cutting. It’s easy to put down a Playstation controller. It won’t get hurt when you tell it that Dragon Age can wait for a bit.
I don’t mean saying no to obligations, like, “Hey, I can’t help you with your fundraiser,” I mean saying no to friends. Saying your faux-career that hasn’t paid you a cent is more important than their emotional needs. It makes me feel like a shit just thinking about it.
I don’t know where to draw the line on this one. I just know that right now it’s in the wrong place.