I greeted March with wild enthusiasm, all set to Write Words and put a serious dent in one of my WIPs.
10 days in and I've written... *drum roll*... 300 words.
I don't know why. I've just... I've wanted to write, but when I've finished what needs doing around the house and with the kids, and sat down with my laptop... nothing has happened. Nothing other than me trailing around on message boards or arsing about on Facebook.
I feel like my drive has gone. This has happened before, but never to this extent. I've never gone for so long without writing anything.
The worst thing is, the longer it goes on, the guiltier I feel. The guiltier I feel, the more stressed I become. And I can't write when I'm stressed. The words get caught up in an emotional bottle-neck. Then the whole damn cycle starts over.
It will pass. I know, because I've been here before. I'll probably be here again. It's just travelling the desert and getting to the other side, hopefully not taking forty years to do so.