This week has been one of those weeks. You know, where it started off well and then kind of turned to mush somewhere around the middle –Wednesday, Thursday, Saturday, they all seem to blur and jumble together like Appollonia’s broken English in my head. Since then, I seem to have found myself squishing through the murky waters of writer’s block, what might be the early signs of Adult ADHD, and general ennui.
For the funemployed writer, this existential listlessness is a fairly typical occurrence. When you’ve been out of a regular routine for months, it becomes difficult to even figure out the day of the week, much less the reason for your existence.
Occasionally there are bright spots: you write something that seems to resonate! You’ve justified your existence (and why you haven’t gotten a job at Starbucks yet)! Hooray!
Then the crazy sets in. “Congratulations,” says the little voice in the back of your mind in a way that isn’t exactly mean, just kind of cold, rational, and slightly edgy. “Enjoy this now, because it’s the last time you’ll ever write something good again. Oh and how much money did you make from that post? Starbucks has great benefits.” Whoa! That was mean! But maybe not. Maybe just true?
In this squishy world of “meh” I have found that when writer’s block sets in and I can’t turn an elegant phrase, I start to rely on snark. Snark is the less clever man’s wit. Whoever said irony is dead in the aftermath of 9/11 didn’t count on it’s red-headed stepchild, snark, inheriting its fortunes. It’s rather easy to be snarky. Sadly, it often seems that the snarkier the work, the more it will get shared on Facebook and Twitter, the twin barometers for success!