Writing Difficulties

I'm finding it difficult to write.  The problem has been going on for at least a year.  It might not have started with COVID lock-downs and the coincidental advent of a new job in Spring of 2020, but those events may have laid the groundwork.   

I noticed that I was stuck writing political revenge fantasies, mostly involving either angels or cybernetic beings carrying out judgements and exiling The Evil Ones to Pluto (or else a thousand years of stasis).  Occasionally, I imagined a Romanesque march of the wicked as a warning to children and delinquents.   Then I would worry that I was some kind of monster or fanatic... and I'd hear Gandalf the Grey saying, "Yes, that's how it would begin."   

When I did manage to break away from the revenge fantasies, the stories I did write were focused on an idea or the setting, but were light on actual plot.  

My mother's sister died suddenly (not from COVID, but from complications of MS).  

Then, last year we got hit by the forest fires' smoke; the Mordor-level of air quality kept us all indoors.  I couldn't go out to exercise, and we all got a bought of cabin fever.   When the smoke finally cleared after about two weeks, the rains came and there were extended periods of grey.  And I got sad and tired and listless.  

And then the elections picked up and I spent a lot of time doom-scrolling.  I was relieved when Biden won the presidency.  And then my father's elderly sister died (after a fall).  And then the insurrection happened.  More doom-scrolling.  The problem with doom-scrolling is that it tunes the mind to 150 character vignettes--this would be fine if I were composing (or reading) haiku, but most social media posts are variations of "Hey! I'm over here!" or "Intruder Alert!"

I thought writing would be easier once May First and the obvious return of light occurred... and I could start stories, but they stalled.  Maybe not all stories, but a lot.  At least I could smile when I saw a meme captioned, "Tell me the truth; I can take it. / World building isn't enough--you have to actually write a plot with characters who make choices and act."  

I did write some flash pieces.  They made the rounds through critique and have gone out to various markets.  And... I feel like I should be writing more, but I've got all these dead-end story starts piling up and sometimes it feels like all I do is write enough of something to get stuck after about 1500 words.   

Sometimes I think I get stuck because I'm trying to work from an outline of plot tokens based on a particular market's research--I'm trying to tell a magazine's story and not my own.  Other times it feels like I'm not connected to something I want to say--the story's heart--and I can't envision it clearly enough to be able to communicate it.  Or maybe I've passed some geriatric milepost and my mental capacity for story has diminished.  

On bad days, trying to write is like being in a sad Annie Lennox song.  On worse days, I feel nothing and write nothing.  On okay days, I blog, or read old favorites (partially for fun, partially to look at how the words are put together).  On not enough days I submit manuscripts.  I think if I can get back into the swing of things, I'll be okay.