Some weeks back, I carried on a bit about writer’s block, pontificating on how we have a choice to write or not write, but that the various excuses we raise to not write are basically bullshit used to dodge the fact that we just didn’t care enough to park our asses in a chair and crank out some copy.
But there’s a more insidious condition lurking – project block. And the key symptom of that may be writing too much.
OK, I shouldn’t generalize. I shouldn’t assume my condition reflects that of the writing world at large. But here’s the deal.
I got this rewrite to finish. And it is kicking my ass on account of rewriting just ain’t as much fun as writing. It’s like remodeling. You think oh, a fireplace would be nice over there, then you realize that’s a load bearing wall, so if you’re gonna rip any of that out, then you got to tie in to this wall over here, except that’s where the plumbing runs up to the master bath, so you’re gonna have to tear out the main waste line, and pretty soon you’re covered in plaster dust and shit water and surrounded by broken bits of lathe.
But the longer it goes on, the longer you’re gonna be taking sponge bathes out of the laundry sink. And meanwhile, Crime Uber Agent Stacia Decker is over in the corner with the impatient evil eyes making snippy comments about more caffeine and less sleep.
So what has this got to do with too much writing?
This. Instead of nailing this rewrite to the floorboards and ripping its throat out, I’ve posted maybe 10,000 words worth of blog blather, a couple zillion tweets, knocked out a two flash fiction pieces and sent 3G worth of noir over to the Crimefactory folk.
In other words, I’ve been having fun when I got chores to do.
So I hope you’ll excuse the stagnant blog and my tweet embargo and my barely flickering Facebook presence. It ain’t just writing, it’s writing what you gotta and not just what you want.
Now, if you’ll excuse me, I gotta get my hard hat and tool belt back on, and get my head back under the kitchen sink. Something’s come loose down there. And no staring at my ass crack.