Holy crud. Two years since Iāve finished āMy Crazy Nerdā and announced that Iāll be writing two more stories. Youād think two years would be enough to at least finish writing one book considering that MCN took me around the same time, but nope. My chapter count isnāt even in the 10ās place for my book, āFaded.ā āMy Deadly Appetite,ā on the other hand, has actually reached that number (with each chapter being long as heck), but Iāve been unsatisfied with it lately.
No amount of apologies will express how sorry I am for this long delay. The least I could do is explain why Iāve been absent.
āWriterās blockā is a common excuse among most writersāif not allāand one Iāve been struggling with since I typed those few chapters of my stories. Sometimes it went, sometimes it stayed, and between those ups and downs, Iāve managed to write something to move the plot forward, even if it was by a millimeter.
Then Iāll reread everything Iāve managed to write months later and rewrite a sentence, a paragraph, a chapter, until I just wanted to tear up the imaginary pages and start over. Iād like to think this turmoil in the process of writing to be relatableāHell, Iām positive it isābut this crude thing isnāt the only factor to my snail-paced updates.
Itās life. Of course itās life. Life makes you busy. Life distracts you from focusing on what you loveāor used to loveādoing. Life drains you. It drains you to the point where when you finally have the timeāthe interestāin doing a hobby again, you look at the blank screen, blank canvas, blank something and realize the emptiness reflects your own mind. Blank. And then you lose interest again and take a step back in hopes that your former spark will come back.