Officially worse than writers' block.
Seriously - I can't actually come up with a new idea after dinghying the one I'd spent all those years on. It's like I've forgotten how. The only new things I've come up with have been flash fiction - usually dreamt up in moments of procrastination. Okay, they're not bad. I've had mostly positive feedback on them. And you know, you can't usually go wrong with flash fiction - as long as you focus you're laughing.
The trouble is, I'm not sure I intend to make a living off short fiction. I more write it for shits and giggles if anything. You never know, if I ever get to be starving hungry I guess I could chuck it in to a publisher to line me pocket...nah, that's greedy. I do have faith in it really. But like I say, it was always novel-writing I intended to make a career out of. Having put aside that idea - although as I said, that animal needed euthanised - I need a new one. I have, of course, been digging through old ideas that ended up in notebooks but never got written down as even a first draft. That, I guess, will have to do. But without a fresh, new, current idea, I seem to be lost. Oh dear, what a depressing thought. :(
What's even more depressing is that it happens to me just before I'm done with uni, when I'm already trying to find a job.
No comments:
Post a Comment