I’m stuck.
I’ve stopped counting the hours I’ve spent on this book proposal. It’s futile. They’re countless. And now, more than half done, I’ve run into the wall. I hate it. Every word I’ve poured into it with blood, sweat and tears makes my skin crawl. It’s all wrong. I want to be hasty. I want to select all, delete.
No one in my “real” life understands how this feels. They don’t understand the overwhelming urge to undo months worth of your own work, hours worth of your very being. They cannot begin to fathom the internal struggle that has been paralyzing my productivity for the past few weeks; the wondering if the wall is just there to climb over or if it’s rooted in truth, if the proposal really is all wrong.
And that, my friends, is a lonely place to be.
I know. Whine, whine, whine, whine, whine!
Hog Farmer. Goose Wrangler. Sustenance Cultivator. Hobby Photographer. Women's Progress Advocator. Wife. Teacher. Mother. Freelance Writer. Unsophisticated Wine Connoisseur. Sister. Speaker. Friend. Butcher. Ruminator. Student. Reluctant Artist. Wannabe Quilter. Chocolate Addict. Gun Enthusiast. 
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Do you have someone that could read/edit/give suggestions? That might jump start your efforts!
Ugh. At this point I’m not even at a place where I would feel comfortable having someone proof it for me. Maybe the husband…. I guess….
Thanks for the suggestion. I’m just throwing myself a big ol’ pity party, aren’t I? Heh.
Maybe this means the bloom is about to …. BLOOM. Don’t be hasty. Take a moment to breathe. And maybe drink. I’d love to share a flask with you
You are NOT alone, just so you know. Take it easy on yourself and consider it a hiatus of sorts. Stupid wall!
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