Writing Woes

Stating a new book that I'm not entirely confident of is hard. Especially lately. Something I struggle with a lot personally is feeling adequate. Rarely am I satisfied by my work, and rarely do I feel as if others appreciate what I try to do. Not that it's their job to. It's mine. But I am envious of the support other people receive from their families. 

Writing is very important to me, and I know that doesn't mean I an necessarily good. Still, these stories are what used to keep me going. Now, as I embark on some new journey to some new mess of a situation, I feel almost nothing. I cared about my old characters, but these new ones seem flat. I'm only 3,300 words in, but I can feel that my protagonist doesn't capture much. It's disheartening, and I think I'll start over.

But what bothers me the most about all this is how I've been dealing with these feelings. I lack inspiration to start something new, I have no idea how to even start this latest project. Sure, it happens to everyone. But I feel very lost without my sense of purpose in writing. 

I'll be the first to admit that my last book was weak. That doesn't mean I didn't love it. I savored nearly every second of the characters' interactions. I fell in love with the place I created. But this story just isn't doing that for me. 

I don't want to sound whiny, but I think that may be because I have no one to share this with. Generally I write for my best friend, Kim, who is like a sister to me. But I haven't seen her for months because she is away on a church trip. I also feel bad, looking back for subjecting her to my writing. Which may or may not be a valid feeling. 

Now that I'm very alone in this world of my writing, I feel uninspired. No one except Kim and maybe Eli actually cares about my writing (Eli only because he acknowledges how important it is to me). It's a lonely feeling, but I don't want people to be interested just because I feel that way. I mean, I just feel...sad lately. This may sound selfish, but just sad and tied of hearing how great a writer Adam would be, how interesting Olga's story is. But No one ever even asks to read my stuff. Even if they know I love it. And that it's important to me.  

That's more petty family stuff than anything, perhaps. But I do feel grossly inadequate, like I'm suffocating under this crushing weight of my own personal disappointment in myself. I've lost my teachers who used to help me and find resources for me, the people who actually encouraged me by providing me with great tools, advice, and books, and the one person who actually took the effort and time to read my words and discuss ideas. Shape these small worlds. 

I like to isolate myself. I always have, even as a kid. It's a problem, but I think I'm just too accustomed to not asking people for help or reaching out to them with my ideas... Maybe I have a problem seeing what I have around me? (It's a little selfish of me to wish people would take an interest in what I do, Jeeze, sorry if you read all this...)

Writing used to make me feel so much less alone. But now, I can't write because it makes me feel lonely. I'm just lost, and I really hope I can find some direction soon. Otherwise, I think this whole sad will just get a lot worse.