Friday, July 12, 2013

In Which I Drop Some Honesty, With Gifs

This is going to be one of those "honest" posts.  I'll inter-cut it with gifs to keep you reading.
it's feelings singing time.
I'm sure this comes as absolutely no surprise to the scores of people who read this blog (Hi Amber!), but I've been feeling very uninspired lately.  Call it a rut, though it's been lasting a long, long time.  I've even started a few posts-- one about the amazing Postal Service concert I went to last month that I accidentally referred to as a Rilo Kiley concert because I was so into seeing Jenny Lewis, one about books I've read that I was excited about, one about Book Expo America 2013 where there were no star penises but there were tons of laughs and excellent books-- but I've finished exactly none of them.  With the Postal Service one, I was mentally writing it the entire way back home from Merriwether Post Pavilion, thinking about how excited I was to get it all down and how it would be fun to blog again, and then I came home, opened the laptop, and... nothing.  The excitement, the words, the fire-- they all drained out of me in an instant.
much like Dean's coffee
This rutful feeling doesn't just cover my personal blog life.  I haven't written a review for WPP in about a month, despite the fact that I have read some books worth reviewing (in case you're curious, Winger by Andrew Smith and the upcoming Fire With Fire by Richmond native and general awesome lady Jenny Han and her bestie and general awesome lady Siobhan Vivian).  I didn't notice it until I went to update my spreadsheet of Books Read in 2013 yesterday (yes I have a spreadsheet you shut your mouth), and this is the first time I've finished a book since June 19 (thank you, audiobook for Outlander).  I've started a bunch, but they're all in limbo.  That's very rare for me, especially the me of the past few years.
this is how i usually feel about books
Part of it, I know, is burnout.  Writing reviews is hard, y'all.  Especially now, because I know what I like, and I'm growing increasingly tired of reading books that don't compel me.  Being a reviewer means that sometimes you have to slog through a story that you do not care about in the slightest.  I could mark it as DNF (that's Did Not Finish for you folks playing at home), but I really, really hate doing that.  I don't judge someone for it, but I want to finish what I start.  So, when I start a new YA book, and I'm immediately smacked in the face by 14 of the same tropes I've seen in the last 50 books I've read, I just can't imagine going on any further.  I don't want to.
presented w/o comment
There are exceptions to the above.  I've been "reading" this one book since I took the train home from BEA.  It's a short book, and I could've easily finished it on the train, but I reached a certain point where I knew the story was going to break me up inside, so I put it down to finish at a later date.  Now, it sits on my dresser, staring at me, willing me to finish, and I'm too scared and/or sad to find out what happens.  What even is that about?
what IS up,
I've also been trying to write more since I got back from BEA.  Hanging with the authorly types (especially the talented, passionate, creative authorly types who happen to be my friends) showed me that this is what I want to do.  I want to tell the stories I've carried around for so, so long.  I want to get them out of me and on paper and into the world.  But it's the same as the blog thing.  In fact, just yesterday as I walked home from the metro, I started hearing snippets of conversation in my head, and I knew which characters were speaking.  I couldn't wait to get home and get this out, let these two characters share this nonsensical conversation and reconnect.  However, I get home, complete my Getting Home routine, and when I finally sit down, I actually fall asleep.  I could have picked the story up at any point in the evening, with more than enough happy wishes from Hubs (and begrudging shrugs from the Mutt Who Really Just Wants Belly-Rubs), but instead?  I watch super mindless TV and then catch up on other less mindless TV.  Granted, I was spending time with Hubs and Mutt, which is always a blessing and happy-making time for me, but then I start thinking... How badly do I actually want this?  Not bad enough to look away from Exes Wipeout, apparently.

Okay, so this is a lot more honest than I intended, but it's already out so it's staying.
ugh, the accuracy.
My point is, I'm in a rut.  I'm doing my best to break out of it, but it's like my brain is floating in molasses.  It's like I'm caught in suspension, but not in the good way that it sounds like in the Mae song.  I'm just here.  And I don't know how to do anything more than exist right now.  It's got to be me that breaks out of this cycle, but I don't know how to do it.
I'm not asking for your sympathy, and, unless the advice is something magical, I'm not asking for that either. I'm simply stating my facts right now as I see them.  Frankly, it feels kinda good to get them out of me.  Maybe this is what I needed all along, to get these negative nellie vibes out of my brain so that space can be taken up by, like, more song lyrics or, you know, PLOT FOR A BOOK I SHOULD BE WRITING.  I know what I need to do to break free of this, but (and this will be the dumbest thing I've ever said) it's hard to do the hard thing.  But that's what I need to do.  Here's hoping I stop being scared and just freaking DO IT already.
asking life's important question
Anyway, thanks for reading, if you're all the way here.  You right there?  You're my favorite.