A couple of weeks ago I was happily reporting that my mojo had returned and I was once again writing with verve and passion. And then early last week my brain assassin came back from whatever holiday she’d been on and the mojo went and hid in a corner. This of course gave the brain assassin more ammunition, which made the mojo cower away even more, and thus a vicious circle was born.
I know from past experience that when I get into one of these cycles it gets increasingly difficult to get out of them. It gets harder and harder to find a reason to do the things I enjoy doing, because why should I? What’s the point in spending three or four hours a day writing if I’m never going to finish a project? Why should I paint those miniatures if I’m never going to get to use them in a game? Why should I start drawing this map if I’m never going to finish the book it’s being made for? And so on, ad infinitum. The brain assassin loves it when I start thinking like this.
Fortunately, this time hasn’t been so bad. I was able to shut down the motivation-sapping cycle of negativity before it got too far and last night I forced myself to hammer out a few hundred words. They definitely weren’t the best words I’ve written, and they’ll probably end up in the bin before the end of the week, but it was enough to get the creative juices flowing again and bring the mojo back out of hiding. If I can build on that today then all being well I’ll once again be back to fifteen hundred word days before the week’s out. I’m probably not going to hit the NaNo target, not with thirty-thousand words needed in eight days, but the important part’s adding the words, getting the writing done at whatever pace I can.
So the mojo’s still there and I’m still writing. Just.