I love the feeling of having a new year spread out before me. It's like a fifth season. The Season of Anticipation. It seems to bring out the creativity in me. I've been dragging myself along barely able to write and suddenly it opens up. Happens every year. The trick is to keep it going all year. I haven't discovered that yet. In fact, the year 2020, with all its craziness, found me pretty much going asleep at the wheel.
I sometimes fret that maybe I'm not a 'real' writer or a 'real' musician because I can't sit down every day and produce. But, I know I'm certainly not alone in this. Even 'successful' writers have down times. Yes, there are people like Steven King who write every day of the year no matter what. And their vast body of work reflects that. But, we mere mortals tend to let daily life get in the way of prodigious output.
I also have trouble staying in one place for any great length of time. Something else is always calling me. I must go back to the timer trick. Set the timer for an hour or even half hour and write like crazy until the buzzer brings me back to reality. That worked for something like 120 pages of a novel I was attempting but then I lost it somehow. I hit a snag in the story and decided to do more research, which a few years later is still going on, apparently.
My other problem right now is dwelling on this stuff instead of just writing. I start to think Why bother? instead of doing it. I'm getting up there even if I hate to admit it, so I begin to think that maybe I shouldn't be worried about creating anything but just relax and glide into old age. Well, I don't think so. Not my style at all. I like the saying - Don't make excuses; make an effort. I try to adhere to that and mostly I do follow my own advice. When I don't life is not nearly as rich.
For now I will try to make the fifth season last as long as possible.