A Writer's Notebook, Day One-Thousand-Four-Hundred-And-Forty-Four

In many ways, I don't feel very good about things right now.  There is a lot going on in my life at the moment that just isn't going well, and I am not certain what can be done about so much of that.  At the same time, I am also aware that I have been able to get myself to a point where I am doing much of the writing I want to be doing.  I am creating new work daily, and I have pushed myself to write more than poetry, adding non-fiction prose and now fiction as well, and I have been keeping up with it all.  I am proud of this, but I will admit that it doesn't really help me to feel much better at the moment.  Ironically, while I know that writing each day has been very good for me in many ways, and gives me a sense that I am at least doing the work I should be doing in spite of anything else, I also know that I feel a lot of negativity that I might not if I didn't write so much.  I mean, if I weren't writing, I wouldn't have to face the difficulty of getting the work published.  I need to keep going, of course, writing each day, and I am committed to it, but I can't help feeling a certain amount of dejection, especially realizing just how much I've written that doesn't have anyplace to go at the moment.  Tonight, I am feeling a lot of that.

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