Not every week is a good week for writing.
Even this blog post has taken me a long time to get to this week.
My days aren’t exactly busy at the moment as I’m looking for a new job and as much time as I have to write, it’s just not been going well for the past couple of days. It’s easier to doubt yourself when you have plenty of time to think. I barely left the house last week and didn’t realise until the end of the weekend when someone pointed it out – not so healthy.
That was rather melancholy
Getting stuck in a rut can happen but if I don’t stop thinking about the fact that words aren’t coming easily then I’m not likely to write ever again.
I’ve got my fingers crossed that it’ll change. Sometimes you’ve just got to endure the slumps.
Can I pick up the mood of this blog post? I think that it might be worth it to try. I was trying to think of some old stories or snippets to see if I had anything to share.
I did find a recent part of a story I’m writing called No Superheroes Allowed.
Cutting across the quad, Neil almost made it.
The doors were in sight but then, his luck ran out.
He froze in place when he heard his name bellowed and more than a few people were staring. Even before he turned on the heels of his feet he knew that there was no way out. He trudged back to the doors he’d just left and tried (he mostly failed) to summon a smile for his boss.
Neil knew that it was futile but he tried it anyway, “I was about to take my lunch break.”
His boss turned and strode away purposefully. Swallowing a sigh, Neil followed. Lunch would obviously, and unfortunately, have to wait.
The S.A. Ward loomed ahead of them and Neil would’ve begged to be let go if he’d thought that it would’ve worked. It was the only part of the hospital which made Neil regret accepting the job. His boss stood in front of the dark green doors until Neil had trudged through and he was out of sight.
Neil had only dared to walk straight back out again once in the earlier days. His boss had not been impressed.
Neil approached the nurse’s desk with trepidation. Sonya beamed at him from behind her desk but he couldn’t muster up more than a sickly smile in defence. She was used to it. He’d never looked happy to be on the S.A. Ward for the three years that she’d known him.
She passed him an unusually thick file and he walked as slowly as was physically possible towards the room at the end of the hallway. He stopped in front of the familiar door, took a deep breath, and then knocked.
From the other side a deep voice practically purred, “Enter.”