Today, as I do from time to time, I had a mental meltdown for no reason. Things were going fine at work; I just felt a sudden pulling of despair that didn’t stop and hasn’t stopped. It got to the point where I couldn’t work, and couldn’t write. I tried to sleep it off, to no avail.
It’s receding now, but it’s like getting a mental cold. The unfortunate thing about mental colds, rather than physical colds, is that they definitely gum up your mental workings.
So I guess my writing routine includes working around days like these, either by make-up days on weekends or simply letting the words go and doing other work to make up for it. (For instance, I feel that there is, when I’m in certain wells of despair, a type of writing I can do, and other types of writing I can’t do; some tasks that I can do, and others that I can’t. It’s rare that I shut down completely like today.)
Still, I’m not giving up. Today is a set-back, but not a fatal one unless I let it become one. So I’ll read back on what I’ve written so far, and think of where to take the story in its bifurcations next. I may outline; I think I can do that. I’ve reread the story that inspired me to really undertake this crazy writing thing (Timothy Pratt’s “A Void Wrapped in a Smile”).
I can write without writing, I guess, as long as I eventually get to the actual writing.