The time between projects is rough. No project is ever complete, but there comes a time when I need to take a break and feel that I have revised as much as is possible. When that happens, I scramble for my next idea, the next world that I am going to dive into and live in for the foreseeable future. The trouble comes when I have nothing new to work on.
I have tons of notebooks filled with outlines, notes, and half written plays and stories. I could start working on any of these, but I am always searching for something new. My irrational thinking is that if I have abandoned them once, I can't go back.
I do sometimes revisit an idea, and it works for me. That doesn't happen often. Right now, I am between ideas, and I spent a large portion of yesterday staring blankly at my notebooks. I hate this listless feeling. I need to be creating to feel good. I need to have time to immerse myself in another world and escape briefly the constant needs of others and numerous commitments that fill my life. When I don't have a place to escape, I get depressed.
I try to be rational. I know this phase. I've been here before, and I know it will pass. Still, I am haunted by the thought of never again having an idea worth writing about.
It will pass. I have chosen this path and must endure the self doubt, the uncertainty, the time in between.
