So with my weird writer’s block (can write down ideas but can’t string them together), I’m going through a reading frenzy. Since January first I have finished six books. Just devoured a 300+ page in a short few hours, but haven’t wrote a review. No matter if I liked them or hate them, I have no words to express at the end of the book. A few minutes ago, I felt like I wanted to write something for one of my stories but nothing clear was coming to me. It just hung there and the more I tried to grasp it the more an invisible wall popped up. Then when I tried to set the book down and write, it vanished.
I have been able to finish one chapter in one book, but even what I have written is crappy. I’m trying to hold on to the fact that at least it is something and can be fixed later, but I just hate this when I get in this type of mood. Yes I devour books, which is good for my TBR list, but I hate not being able to write. And really hate not writing something I like or at the very least is halfway decent.
At this rate, I’ll have tripled the amount of books I wanted to read this year but have no new books out when I really want to get at least three done and off my plate. The Price of War is slipping through my fingers and I really wanted to get it finished so I didn’t have to dwell on it too much considering the amount of history (both personal and non-personal) I’m pouring into it.
I need sleep.