Rekindling Dying Passions


Today, I got up early (or early-ish in my book) and worked on my WIP. I haven’t done this in months.

I used to do this all the time, used to do it every day for over a month during the Golden Age of Writing back in November 2008. That was a long while ago.

I’ve worked on becoming a novelist for a long time now. Seriously for nearly six years now. Well, on and off for nearly six years, if you call that being serious.  After so long, the dream got stale. I sort of forgot the reason why I wanted to write novels. I found myself putting it off more and more, and taking up other goals, other dreams. Like becoming an illustrator.

I stopped going to writing blogs, and started going to art websites. Soon, I stopped reading about fiction writing altogether and simply lost all passion for it. I was just going through the motions. I had a story in me and I was simply, slowly, getting it down. But that was it. My heart wasn’t in it like it used to be.

Due to my latest epiphany/breakthrough/breakdown/relapse/recovery I realized that perhaps art isn’t for me (I still wanna do it, but probably not full time).  My love for Story always comes first.

Then I realized the first chapter for my novel for the novel writing course I’m in is due March 2 and that I’m very much behind.

I brought out my lesson binder, caught up on the writing blogs I used to frequent (QueryShark, Terribleminds, etc), and started Fire in Fiction by Donald Mass I had bought a million years ago, but never touched.

And just like that. It returned.

I’m excited again.

Today, I finally got up earlier than absolutely necessary to work on my novel before taking Jesse to school. It was easier to do it this time. I wanted to get up early. I had worked on my assignment all last night and kept it fresh in my mind as I went to bed and on my mind when I woke up.

And man does it feel GOOD.

Have you ever lost the fire for something you loved to do and found it again?

How did you get it back?

4 thoughts on “Rekindling Dying Passions

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  1. I’m gonna be 27 in 3 months. Have been writing my ass off in the hopes of getting somewhere since i was 14 years old. In a more serious capacity, since 18, and a more serious capacity after that, since i was 21. Have been trying to get my current WIP published since 2006. Have sense figured out what it was lacking and regained my undying passion for it, and believe whole-heartedly when i put it back out there this summer I will finally strike what i’ve been looking for.

    Turns out in the end part of the problem was that I had matured out of the story my current WIP had been, and was stifling it by accepting it as fine as is, and the thing that helped me regain my passion was bringing it up to speed with my “emotional language” in the present day as it were.

    1. I know the feeling. I think it takes time for a writer to get to a place where they can be okay scrapping their original ideas and accepting they own the story, the story doesn’t own them.


    2. I, too, have been working on a novel since I was 14. I’ve since started another one that is probably more publishable, better, and would be easier to finish on time. But I still have a passion for and still want to finish that first book. Even if no one reads or likes it but me. I feel like I have to do it, to be true to my 14-year-old self and true to who I am now. Occasionally I will flag and get discouraged and bogged down — and then I’ll read something like this and remember why I care. Thank you! 🙂

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