I’m still struggling through my rut of over two years now. Time is a funny thing, and it may also be strange to call two years where I started to get paid for writing a ‘rut’. But I feel like I’m in a rut. My own fiction has been supressed a bit and is now depreessing me.
Quality still isn’t up to the level I want throughout most of my stories. That too is depressing.
I have to keep working. But I’ve gotten discouraged more than I can handle I suppose, but if I take that attitude it means at some point I am allowing myself to be discouraged. I don’t benefit from being discouraged. I need to be an enduring worker.
Through fear and doubt I have seen my confidence whittled away. I have misplaced my forward drive somewhere in the mix.
I’m frustrated. Becasue, in spite of knowing all this, I can’t seem to get free.
I can only keep trying.