On False Inspiration

Happy New Year's!

It's been a while since I have written here, hasn't it? Well, after Junji Ito month became kinda boring because I realized my opinions were all basically the same on the stories I ended up reviewing, I left this blog for a bit.

Before I get to the topic at hand, let me recap you on what has happened in the life of Momma Shakespeare.

NaNoWriMo went extremely well, and I won for the year with a story that is still not complete. But I made the 50k word count limit by the next to last day of the month. And Christmas also went well. After that, though, I've been creatively... stale. I'm trying to rekindle some of it with the MGRP NEXT sequel, and maybe a few other interesting ideas for stories, and this brings me into what I mention in my title.

I just wanted to know that if anyone else out there ever got struck with a thing that I like to call "False Inspiration". I get it every time I walk into a bookstore and I see all of the books in there and just go, "wow, I could do that. I just need to write something!" And then I get an urge to go purchase ANOTHER new notebook! Let's say this is a perfect world where I have all the money I want for everything, so I go and get that nice leather-bound one I wanted. Then I go get the PERFECT PEN, the stainless steel one with the gel ink that I love so very, very much (black, of course), and then I head home.

Then I open up that leather-bound book and take off the little rubber cap that's on any gel pen of quality, and I sit down to write. And I realize... I don't want to write anything. I have the overwhelming urge to write, but nothing to focus on it. I have multiple ideas and concepts, but they all sound really dumb when I consider putting pen to paper. And then I am left sitting there, an idiot with a notebook and a pen that I should have never purchased because I may never use it due to its fancyness. But I still want to write.

And that's why I am here. Writing about the feeling of wanting to write but not being able to write. I mean, it's a very weird sensation, and I know for a fact that other writers go through this. And I want to keep myself sharp doing the whole "Write something every day!" thing and keeping a blog about everything and nothing in particular. I don't think anyone even reads this, or if it's even worth me posting here. But honestly, whether people read it or not, I just need to put this shit out somewhere. I'm just doing it to have an archive. A public diary of sorts. And maybe someone, someday, will find this somewhere and be... mildly intrigued by... whatever I do?

Every time I say I want to go back to using this, I end up going back on it a week or so later. But who knows? Maybe this time, of all times, is the time to go back to this blog. Well, new year, new start. Maybe I should make a daily to-do list and go to someone I know very well to get it printed.

We'll see how this works, guys.