Nothing like pressure to perform to make you miserable.
I've finally come close to completing a long-simmering project, only to choke in the final stretch, as they say. There are a multitude of reasons this could be happening. For example, unlike previous pieces of this project, this is just the general introductory piece, which has less focus than the rest. Less focus means more trouble coming up with an approach, and, as I always say, approach is everything. (Actually, I usually say "structure is everything," but no point in being pedantic.)
I am also, unfortunately, woefully out of practice in this particular form of writing, of which I used to be a real master. (How's that for grammar? Whee...) The pressure of living up to standards achieved when I was at my height have become something of a cloud following me around whenever I try to dive in. (See? I can't even manage a decent metaphor. Hell.)
I am, of course, being an idiot about all this. The other pieces came relatively easily. I don't see why this one should be any more difficult. And yet it is. Naturally, it would help if I looked at the thing more often than I do, but sometimes I just don't want to face it.
Usually when I'm in this situation, it's a good idea to just trash everything and start again, either with a new approach (because, remember, approach is everything... forget what I said about structure; I was on crack), or just ditch the subject matter altogether and write about something else. This last idea is tempting. As I said, this is supposed to be an introductory piece, which means it needs to be humorous and entice the reader into wanting to read more, but maybe I should just dive in and let the work speak for itself. But, see, that would remove the thing that makes my approach unique. Otherwise, I feel like I'm coming closer to my influences than I feel comfortable with.
Ironically, it's exactly this sort of overthinking that's screwing with my head in the first place.
So my solution thus far? Work on something else. Simple enough... Only procrastination just makes that cloud loom larger and more ominously.
Such are the perils of a writer, I suppose.
I've finally come close to completing a long-simmering project, only to choke in the final stretch, as they say. There are a multitude of reasons this could be happening. For example, unlike previous pieces of this project, this is just the general introductory piece, which has less focus than the rest. Less focus means more trouble coming up with an approach, and, as I always say, approach is everything. (Actually, I usually say "structure is everything," but no point in being pedantic.)
I am also, unfortunately, woefully out of practice in this particular form of writing, of which I used to be a real master. (How's that for grammar? Whee...) The pressure of living up to standards achieved when I was at my height have become something of a cloud following me around whenever I try to dive in. (See? I can't even manage a decent metaphor. Hell.)
I am, of course, being an idiot about all this. The other pieces came relatively easily. I don't see why this one should be any more difficult. And yet it is. Naturally, it would help if I looked at the thing more often than I do, but sometimes I just don't want to face it.
Usually when I'm in this situation, it's a good idea to just trash everything and start again, either with a new approach (because, remember, approach is everything... forget what I said about structure; I was on crack), or just ditch the subject matter altogether and write about something else. This last idea is tempting. As I said, this is supposed to be an introductory piece, which means it needs to be humorous and entice the reader into wanting to read more, but maybe I should just dive in and let the work speak for itself. But, see, that would remove the thing that makes my approach unique. Otherwise, I feel like I'm coming closer to my influences than I feel comfortable with.
Ironically, it's exactly this sort of overthinking that's screwing with my head in the first place.
So my solution thus far? Work on something else. Simple enough... Only procrastination just makes that cloud loom larger and more ominously.
Such are the perils of a writer, I suppose.
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