It's nearing 10 p.m. and my bedtime. I'm not ready.
I'm staring at my computer screen and the pile of books and folders scattered around my office.
"How," I think, "will I ever get this all into one, cohesive book?"
I'm starting to feel wasps buzzing around my stomach, poking me with little stings of panic.
Sure, I said, when they asked me if I could write this history book. No sweat. I wrote a thesis, didn't I? I've written five novels, haven't I? I've written articles, haven't I?
Except...this isn't an article, or a thesis, or even a novel.
This is something completely different. I'm on shaky ground. Untested.
And it's made me freeze.
Suddenly, I'm longing to work on my novel, to read books, to do anything but that which I was so excited to do a few months ago.
Then there's the new job. More to learn. More to stash in my brain.
How, I think, do people do this? Work full-time and write full-time? Because essentially, that's what I'm doing.
But having just written all of this, I look back to the poster I made two years ago when I was just beginning my quest to use my MA in history by writing articles and trying to find a job in my field.
Oh, it's too hard...oh, I can't do it...there's been too many changes in my life this year...it's just too much...blah, blah, blah.
A friend on Twitter told me, "You can conquer the job and the writing. You are woman, hear you roar."
And you know what? She's right. When I decided to quit whining last year, I got to work and did what needed to be done.
I sold six articles to my dream magazine.
I was approached to write a history book on a subject matter I specialize in.
And I found a job where I could use my history degree.
It's time to press the reset button. It's time to dig deep. It's time to reconnect with my passions and do the work.
Let me repeat: It's time to do the work.