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It’s the start of a new month, which means it’s time for a new posting of the Insecure Writer’s Support Group. Click the badge to learn more about this group.

I’m going to skip this month’s question – I haven’t even checked my emails yet. I’m going to jump right into my writerly insecurities this month.

I haven’t done any proper writing for two months.

Yes, you read correctly: I haven’t done a proper day’s writing in two months.

Why? First, because I got ill. And then… Tony.

You can get the full story on Instagram (or as full as I’ll share it, anyway), the point is: he got ill, he got diagnosed, he stayed ill, he got a secondary diagnosis that ended in his death this past weekend.

I knew there was something wrong. He’d gone from adventurous to staying protectively at my side. I thought it was a sign of age…

I can’t seem to concentrate. I have all these goals – as discussed in my interview on Operation Awesome – that stare at me and mock me from the dark corners of my mind.

One book only needs a quick revisiting before sending it off to beta readers (I want to change the opening to fit the ending better) – it’s not that I don’t know what needs to happen, I just can’t do it.

Another book needs a proper rewrite – there’s something unlikeable about the MC that I have to fix. But I just can’t seem to immerse myself in teen drama right now.

Then there’s the short story I was asked to write for an anthology… I have the outline, I have the characters, I have an amazing twist. I don’t have the energy, the will, to write it. Despite what it can mean for my career.

I know it gets better. Life will go on and my writing will become the main focus again. But what about the looming deadlines? The first on the list needs (with my own crazy deadlines) to be published in two languages in November. The second needs to be in for a deadline end of September. The third, thankfully, by end of November.

But can I do it? I couldn’t even bring myself to finish the folklore post that was supposed to be up on Sunday despite having everything ready…

Am I being too harsh with myself? I did just lose one of my furbabies… Or am I allowing my emotions to get the better of me and tanking my career with it? The last time one of my babies died, I watched the Avengers for a month before writing again…

I know my energy levels are low because I’m running after the newest member of our little family. Caitlin arrived a week before Tony’s illness took a turn for the worst. She’s a sweet little thing. But very energetic – and I have to do a lot of cleaning.

It’s almost like I want to do menial work that will keep me from thinking. (Not that I’m going to go against the goblins in my head that scream that everything should be clean.)

But what about my writing?

Any advice?

*All photos in this post are of Tony in the last two months.

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