So Very Blocked

All right. The time has come for me to stop making excuses and just get down to it.

First, it was that I hated the room that is my office because it's messy and ugly and has bad vibes. So I couldn't write in there.
So I bought a laptop so I can write anywhere.
And all I've done so far is play games and read other people's blogs while I watch tv.

Then, it was that I didn't know if Losin' It was even interesting enough to keep writing, because it's a little odd (sort of a chick lit meets erotica, where both the heroine and the hero think the other is a prostitute.) and I don't know if I'd be able to sell it.
So I sent the first chapter to my critique group and received rather positive feedback.
And yet I *still* haven't written anything new.

The thing is, I want to do this. Every day that goes by that I stare at my computer, every Sunday that passes, I have this overwhelming guilt and sick feeling deep in my stomach that I'm missing something... And I'm pretty sure the reason is that I need to be writing, and I'm not.

Why? Procrastination? Stomped into the ground self-esteem? Pure and unadulterated laziness?

Yup.

Ok, and a little bit of the commute from hell that just wipes me out at the end of the day. But really. Suck it up.

So. now I have to get past those. I need to figure out how to turn off that little voice that says "You're writing is so bad, you couldn't even write for Harlequin" (which is an exact quote from my editing instructor in College, who considered this the ultimate insult, because Harlequin sells "junky little books" [just remember, those who can, do, those who can't, teach. and she wasn't any good at teaching either.]) and the other voice that says, "it's your relaxation time, just sit back and watch tv. You don't need to be working."

But now the season is over, we know Haaron killed Lilly Kane, Walt got kidnapped by the Others and Michael Vaughn isn't really Michael Vaughn. So the most exciting thing on tv right now is a lot of reruns, reality shows and Canadian Idol (and really, how much Ben Mulroney and John Dore can a girl take?) And most people are going to be on vacation, so the commute from hell will hopefully become the commute from heck.

And there' s no more excuses. So I'm putting it out there, in writing.

My goal is two pages a day.

I know that seems like hardly anything, but until I can get over this perfectionist, psycho internal editor thing, that's actually a stretch for me.

I can do it. I believe in me.

Heck, my first contest, I finalled in. And got a request for the full manuscript. Which I finished.

So go me.