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Why Fiction Causes Me Creative Blocks

January 12, 2021

As the first time I’m updating my blog in the New Year, I’m still in the hazy headspace that New Years puts me in even if I haven’t had drop of alcohol or sugar.  I make the assumption I have forever to write my fiction.  I have to force myself to write lately because the creative flow is not there.  I’m stressed over my financial situation but I need to write those books if I’m ever going to right my money scene.  My 2020 anxiety from the pandemic is paralyzing me.  I’m freaking out daily, making my usual extraordinary effort to stay well.  You only get the virus if you go near people, who otherwise are infected.  The more infected people are right wing, but then the Chinese knew what would happen.

Yes, since I get a lot of blog readers in China.  Anyway, I’m trying to write all my books at once, which is making me crazy stressed.  I’m trying to plug away at my work.  I get commission when the thing is published.  That is something my mother does not understand about the writing business.  You get paid when you deliver the finished product.  You do not get a salary, you get commission even on articles for online outlets.

Money eventually does come with writing, if you can market your well-written book because you have to make actual sense. This is why I’m relieved I’m stable.  I need to stay stable, I have to stay stable, I’m trying to stay stable.  Mr. hernia is making me feel terrible. I see germs, I see dead people, I’m trying to stay away from sick people.  I find my non-fiction is coming out easier because I tell myself I can make money with it.  My fiction is about stuff I keep suppressed. 

Science fiction is actually more like fact but I do not want to be specific as to how.  Fiction is something that relies on pure imagination.  My brain is stressed from the virus going around, from all the suffering going on.  I keep trying to keep myself well.  I have access to an herbal antiviral made of lemongrass, ginger, and cinnamon.  So far, I’ve stayed well. I can’t have a cold prevention remedy of lemon juice, cinnamon and pepper because that can trigger my heartburn. I’m frustrated, because I have to make money but I’m stuck in a low-income lifestyle.

I finally convinced my doctor to let me make money.  My books could very well make me a lot of money.  I do not need to live pay check to pay check.  I’m trying to keep myself from getting depressed.  My fiction is out on Amazon, Opening New Dimensions, Iria Vasquez-Paez.  You can look it up if you want to.  No guarantees you will buy it but it is out there nonetheless.  So I have a book out that I’m scared of people buying.  How silly, it is ridiculous.

Anyway, I’m going to try to finish writing all my projects this year, as Opening New Dimensions is a science fiction novel I envision having 7 books in the series total.  My second book, Journey to Atlantis is going to be 1,000 pages.  I’m half-way through this book. I’m trying to think “what next?”  A guide to developing plot is thinking: “what is next?”  I’m trying to piece together the plot but I feel like I’m slogging through the work. I’m trying to not get depressed about my creative tendencies.

I’m using a computer that needs an updated operating system.  I got the new phone, I have to set up my equipment for the continuous glucose monitor.  But anyway, this stuff that is definitely distracting from working on my book.  Journey to Atlantis is the title of my sequel because it will involve time travel.  As if my life isn’t saturated in the paranormal, and to degree I enjoy the metaphysical stuff although my damn brain could use a break from the intensity I feel in it. This is my rapid cycling bipolar trying to stay in control.  Otherwise, I’m very stressed lately, as I’m trying to burn the candles at both ends.

Yes, taking time off is a good thing.  I need to chill on occasion anyhow, but I don’t read my own stress levels very well to see when I need a break.  My phobias are sky high right now from the mess that the US government has become because of seditionist Republicans.  I’m trying to ride my wave without getting too stressed out. The great part is that I’m making progress with all books.  I’m trying to take time off from this blog.  I’m trying to make money here in a variety of ways.  I feel unsuccessful and staying low income is brutal.

At the same time, I do not want my mental landscape to turn into a hot mess.  I really do not want to cause myself a nervous break down.  These days I know how to get myself to appointments on time because I can think my way through the process of getting ready so much better.  With my parents not around to drive me crazy before I’m leaving the house, I can get out of the house on a regular basis now.  I like leaving whenever I feel like it, but see mr. hernia is causing me major symptoms right now, I’m tired, easily made tired, and I feel run down.  Yes, I’m having trouble getting things done.

I’m having trouble focusing on anything, even ordinary TV.  I have the energy for at least that, and I work in the mornings.  I’m trying to keep my head from going far into my hat, I’m trying to make something of myself.  The struggle is real.  I have a doctors appointment today, to see if something can be done about this infernal hernia.  I find this situation aggravating at best, because I want to focus on writing fiction.  Sure, recovering from hernia surgery will be something.  But hey, that is my real distraction right now, Mr. hernia.  It is my #1 distraction.  The pain.  Oh yes, I now recognize it for what it is.  I’m stressed because I’m low income.  Lol. I’m trying to navigate my stress levels.  Eventually I will win all the wars though, the hernia war, the sleep war, the money war, the diabetes war.  I will win everything. I’m trying.

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