Mud and Water

I am struggling so much with the last novel of the CofC series. Normally when I write, it's like a tidal wave. My fingers fly, the words spew out and next thing I know, I've knocked out 1,000 words in an hour. They might not always be the best words, but a little editing and a couple more hours later and I've got a chapter, maybe two. I've been so spoiled by the ease of my writing, that even the littlest writer's block has annoyed the heck out of me.

Now I'm facing my last book of my first ever series, and suddenly I feel like I'm trudging through waist deep mud, the suction on my legs and feet making every little movement, every sentence written, feel like really hard, frustrating work. I'm fighting with myself, my attention, my exhaustion and it's stressing me out more than anything.

So, now I'm an analytic person. I take every decision in my life and mull it to death like a cat torturing a mouse before finally deciding what to do about it, how to handle it, what is wrong and how to fix it. There are a lot of easy to see things that are blocking my path, growing kids demanding more attention, major changes in my personal life, demands on my time to help promote and market the books that are already out, etc, but I think beyond all that I may have realized a bigger, looming shadow plaguing me as I head into the last part of what, in many ways, I consider my third, fourth and fifth babies...I'm suddenly paralyzed by a fear of failure. I'm afraid that after building this whole world, these delicate relationships, this over arcing sense of danger and suspense that when the final book is laid to rest I'm going to disappoint everyone. Then, if I don't fail, I think a part of me is afraid I won't find another original idea good enough to write something else people would really want to read.

Darned if I do, and darned if I don't, and in addition to all of the concrete barriers I am currently facing, I've managed to grind myself to a near halt thanks to this fear. Now I recognize some of this is a healthy fear. Only an extremely cocky person would look at their book/series and think it's a slam dunk. Almost every writer I know agonizes at least a little over their work, each of us being our own worst critics. I'm just praying for some rain here to thin out the muck and help me get a flow again. It don't necessary need a tsunami...at this point, I'd be happy with a lightly babbling brook, steadily building until it hits a larger body of water that will take me all the way to the completion of my series...a few more waking hours of quiet with the 'voices in my head' chattering away at me wouldn't hurt any either. ;)