It has been nearly a year since my last post. No book reviews, no clever memes, no updates on ongoing projects. Nothing. Silence. Maybe you wonder why. Maybe you didn’t even notice. Either way, I’m here today to talk about the void that has become my life these last eighteen or so months.
The last thing I wrote and published was Boys Don’t Cry, a new adult romance novel I released in September 2015. That novel was the last novel I finished. All other projects, save for the occasional short story, have come to a standstill. Much of the time my many ongoing projects simply stare at me when I open their files, cursor blinking in cold accusation, and the worst part is I’m not even sure why.
It feels like something strange happened to my mind, something I don’t even know how to put into words. Brain fog? Creativity parasite? That is terrifying because putting things into words has always sort of been my… well… thing. If I’m angry with you, the best way for me to express those feelings has always been to write them down. If I’m happy, my jubilance is best expressed in writing. Depression, torment, elation, excitement… it has always been my greatest joy to put such emotions to paper, just as I have always been happiest writing stories and poems. For decades, I pumped out so many words, both meaningless and meaningful. Short stories, poems, novels, essays, papers…
Now, I feel as though I have no words at all. It’s taking just about everything I have inside me to write this blog post, and I’m already judging every single word so hard I’ve considered hitting delete at least nine times since I started writing it.
Where did the words go? Why can’t I make them come out anymore? Have they abandoned me? Am I being melodramatic? Considering how much of my life revolves around words, this is a distressing turn of events, and it feels incredibly dramatic to me… especially as it’s gone on so long. The simple things don’t seem to be working at all. Just sitting down and letting the words flow doesn’t seem to work. Plotting and planning don’t seem to help. I sit down and attempt to write something every single day, but words elude me. It’s not just a matter of judging the words I’ve written, it’s an issue of no words actually getting on the screen/paper. Struggling with the order in which they should arrive sometimes when they do actually attempt to come out.
Is it some kind of mental issue? Depression? Melancholia? Late-life attention deficit disorder.
I don’t know the answer, but I feel like I’m drowning. I feel like… a monster, or rather a ghost of who I used to be when words made sense.