(as an aside, the title of this post is misleading. I’m using the phrase incorrectly, but I do that knowingly now. And yet I feel the need to write this disclaimer, instead of correcting the title. I am an odd duck)
One of the demotivating emotions that drags at my ankles when I try to march off to productivity is a feeling of useless effort. Like the time and bother I would invest in writing is a waste of time since it will make me no money, no one other than my kind wife will read it, and society will burp along unchanged no matter what I do.
I really wonder if I’m missing a drive to create that other authors have. When I read boingboing and the relentlessly self-promoting post of Cory doctrow, I’m shamed by the uneding stream of work he seems to produce while I struggle through editing my novel and procrastinate with hours of vdeo games.