shadowscast

Last night I did a bit of writing, for the first time since I started my new job a month and a half ago. I'm a teacher, this is my first year teaching, and I've been finding it exhausting and all-consuming; I hardly have any time to myself and when I do, I feel too tired to write.

So. Last night I did write. I managed about 600 words, the start of chapter 2 of the sequel to "London Calling." And it felt...frustrating. The words didn't flow, I was dragging them out kicking and screaming. I don't like how it reads. I don't know how to improve it. And at this rate it'll take me years to finish the story.

Writing is so lonely, so isolated. The LJ community takes away from the isolation, but not so much when I don't have time to read my flist or post. And I still feel isolated in the writing itself up to the point when I post it. That makes it really tempting to post as a WIP, but I wouldn't be a good WIP poster, since I'm so painfully slow—plus, what I've got now feels like it needs serious editing. Not that I can think of how to fix it. Argh.

And yet I still feel as though I have to write. The story is inside me somewhere, and I have to get it out, no matter how much of a bitch the effort is! But I wonder if this is even healthy; maybe I should give it up, just enjoy reading fic and find a new, more relaxing hobby in place of writing.

Um. I can't stop, can I? So I guess I'll go try to get a few more words out. Thanks for listening to me vent.