In the Writer's Studio: April 2022
The wind’s changed. Dreary cold has been swapped for watering can sprinkles and anime daffodils. The birds have migrated back to their perches. The bees thunk mercilessly at the window panes, taunting the dog. With spring comes abundance, renewal, the promise of longer days and baby lambs.
My writer’s studio is gathering dust. The metaphorical studio, the mind studio. My actual studio, an aforetold dining table and adjoining chest of drawers, did get a declutter and reorganization a week or two ago. But the writer’s studio in my mind palace, that wood clad timber attic room looking over the ocean on one side and the forest on the other, with amble desk space and a collage of inspiration along each wall, that hasn’t been touched in a while.
I’m not sure what prompted it, the Block. That great Block which all writers fear most (and some deny). But it came like the moody clouds that I welcome in the winter skies. It settled into the pit of me, this despair, this unsure footing. Each word I typed was worse than the last until it became a downward spiral of self-doubt and crippling anxiety. The Block came and then the Depression and then the Anger, or perhaps they were all rolled into one, a product of bad brain chemicals fueled by caffeine and social media. And the trauma that has been the Last Two Years.
January was relatively sound. A new writing planner brought forth inspiration in the form of shiny stickers and a barrage of New Year-New Me thrills. I continued slogging through my Dark Academia Ghost Story until somehow I got stuck in the mud I’d dredged, and after years of doing this, instead of calling for help, I think I just dug myself deeper. Knee deep, waist deep, until February came along in a wash of colder rain and less inspiration.
Not less, just different. In February I’d managed a handful of 5k+ days. Inspiration struck, thank God!, and I powered through a handful of fan fiction short stories that I’m rather proud of. Those flew out of me like some life-force tucked itself under my fingertips and did the work for me. I hadn’t felt that in years.
But again, the Block swept me away again.
March was rough. March was a deluge instead of a mud pit. It was rapid waters with no boulders or sticks to grab onto. It was panic. It was grasping desperately for an idea, anything to come along that I could build a raft out of. And March dumped me into the ocean where I could tread water on short stories and the residual praise from short stories of long, long ago.
I tread through the beginning of April, exhausted, needing a change. A change of pace, of scenery. I think being in the ocean made me realize just how little my life had changed in the past few years. It was a constant deluge of ideas followed by a drowning of overwhelm, followed by the disappointment of unfinished projects. I felt I was letting my friends and family down. I’d isolated myself to an island and burnt my boat. I needed something new.
And then, as my head was beginning to submerge, a lifeline came. An idea. A buoy.
I’ve always loved film. If you’ve known me for any amount of time, years, a conversation in a coffee shop, I think you’ll recognize that about me. If I’m not quoting a movie, I’m asking you what your favorite are (and judging accordingly). If I’m not referencing a television show, I’m equating our conversation to a scene in my head. Movies have always been my life, my second love only to writing. Well, probably my first love, but movies are way harder work.
So after a particularly difficult day treading water, I talked to Sean and my Mom, and they suggested I search for freelance writing gigs. If something is going to get me out of my funk, it may be writing for others. I’ve searched before, several times over the years, and have always quit due to overwhelm, but it couldn’t hurt to try again.
So I decided, this time, to whittle my options. I began searching for freelance writing gigs in topics I’m passionate about. Writing, obviously, and film. If you’ve been on the blog, or following my work for a while, you’ll know I absolutely love writing film and television reviews. It’s the perfect way to articulate how I’m feeling after I’ve finished watching something I enjoyed (or didn’t! Yikes!). And after a few days of searching, I found some options. I found my buoy.
My course is changing, like the winds. Like winter to spring, I feel a new life breathed into my lungs. The birds have come back to me. The life-force has returned beneath my fingertips, and I’ve found myself writing again. I’ve found myself joyful again, the sun shining on my face, drying my hair and hands.
I’ve dusted out my studio and thunked a stack of DVDs on the desk top. I’m writing reviews again, and feature articles, and my career path has changed, I think for the better.
For those of you wondering, I am still writing fiction. I’m still experimenting with short stories and micro fiction. Every day, I’m finding myself thinking of the main characters in my novels, itching to write their stories again. Itching to get back to work. This new venture is just exciting me again, rejuvenating all that I’ve lost over the past couple of years, filling me with freedom and adventure and self-worth. All it took was a change of perspective.
As for this space, and my YouTube channel, I want to continue to document my writing. I want to write about writing, because I love to do it and I love to talk about it.
The world has opened up again, and I want to write in my places. I want to see more things. I want to write about more adventures.
So keep an eye on this space, is what I’m offering. Come back here to see how my writing’s going, to talk about writing, to be inspired to take little retreats and adventures for your own writing, or just for your own self care. Be with me. Float with me.
Thanks, as always, for reading xo
Tldr; I write movie reviews now. (@amandawatchesmovies)







