Sometimes funks happen. My most recent writing funk was in April. The sky was gray, the air was cold, and some family woes had me worried. I wanted to be on vacation far away from the gloomy Pacific Northwest and all of my stress, which made it terribly hard to focus on my writing.
I just couldn't bring myself to sit down at my desk, turn on my laptop, and open my WIP. I wanted to stop procrastinating, really I did, and nearly drove myself crazy trying shake off my winter blues.
I watched costume dramas and read historical romances, hoping they would inspire me to write. Nothing jarred me out of my funk. A week passed, and I was still stuck in my pity party. To be honest, it was mentally exhausting.
As the days flew by, I became more discouraged and upset with myself for not meeting my self-imposed deadline. Why wasn't I writing? I didn't have writer's block. I wasn't uncertain about which direction to go with my story. I had characters and a routine that excited me. My goals weren't ridiculously hard. I knew I could meet them, if only I tried.
All I had to do was put my butt in my chair, my hands on my keyboard, and get some words down. Put in the hours. Write. Revise. Repeat. It was the only way I was going to finish my story.
Giving up for one week is what worked for me in the end. Weird, I know. But giving myself permission to step away from my writing for seven days gave me the mental break I needed.
I brooded. I watched more movies. I read another book. I worked on craft projects. And when I reached the day that I told myself I'd snap out of my funk, guess what happened. I sucked it up, sat down with my computer, turned on my timer, opened up my WIP, and started writing.