Most of the writers I know are always crazy frustrated and pressed for time. They miss deadlines, get writer’s block, generally struggle with their craft and self doubt. We all have our issues.

Mine tend to be the opposite. I turn things in early, can always write, and have no trouble making time to hash out stories. Do you hate me yet?

This is why I always joke that I’m not really a writer. I’m not an introvert, nor am I tortured soul. (I’ve had my struggles but choose not to let them haunt me)

My pains come from the very act of creation. I have no problem tearing into myself and ripping out very personal over exposing stories. My earlier worked sucked, like everyone’s, but now that I’m writing book 2 for my Embracing Entropy series I’m finding the process even more intense.

Every night I allow my children to watch some TV before they go to bed. It’s the end of the day, we’re gotten everything done, their tired but not sleepy yet. It’s perfect. While they enjoy their little movie or a couple of episodes of a show I get to stow away in my room and write.

I write fast so it works, most of the time. Give me an hour or two and I can pump out a couple thousand word or more. Last night had to be one of the hardest drafting nights. I wrote a lot, but the emotional drain of the plot thickening and pushing myself to get through it really hit me.

Lately I’ve been waking up with what I call “Word Hangovers.” Any writer should understand this. It’s self-explanatory.

I drink when I write, but this isn’t a physical hangover, it’s mental, emotional. Honestly I prefer headaches to this.That glossy eyed, bubble headed, what the hell am I doing with my story feeling follows writers around sometimes and it has been with me since the writer’s conference.

Maybe I’m more conscious of what I’m writing because I’m honing in on my skills. Either way, this is part of the job. Battling what’s going on in my head to be present in the real world so I can continue to connect with the people in my life has become a true struggle.

And there’s always that concern that what I’m writing may not appease my publisher.

For now I intend to push through, get this baby drafted and then set her aside and enjoy life before editing. My brain is on overdrive, but maybe that’s where the word hangovers come in. A little insanity never hurt anyone. Right?