I sit down specifically to write, feeling like it will finally go somewhere, I write a little then suddenly it feels like I’ve walked right into a brick wall. My nose is broken, I’m bruised and bloodied, and I don’t want to fight anymore. I want to give up and not write another word. Then the ideas come again. It’s a vicious cycle.

It’s been over a year since I started working on “What the Heart Wants”. I know because I started working on it before my mom died. It’s been about a year and almost six months. And I’m only just now on chapter 10.

I have no motivation, and when I do, it’s inconvenient. And when I do try to sit and make myself write something, I hit the wall. It’s a struggle I don’t want. In addition to all the other struggles.

I just want to write and finish some fiction.

No more unfinished fiction.