Remember this book?
I've stumbled into a writing funk that reminded me of Milo and his time lost in "The Doldrums". Every writer, I'm sure, gets lost there on occasion. It's not a place found due to a lack of ambition, but quite the opposite - an abundance of worry and stress and over-analysis. I'm dissatisfied with everything I write and that leads to a tailspin of doubt. And then I start thinking I ought to be writing something else entirely, something unrealistic, sensational and smutty, and then I can't write anything. It sucks! Where's my timekeeping dog to haul my ass out of here?