It does rain in L.A.

I have noticed I have a tendency only to write when I'm feeling great, everything's peachy, the sun is shining, blah blah blah. But I don't want my blog just to become the "Christmas newsletter" of blogs. If you're reading this it's either because you care about me or you care about writing, and it's only fair to show you the reality of both.

It's been raining for several days, off and on, providing a perfect backdrop for my current case of the blues. I have had a headache for quite literally four days now, and it's really getting old, especially since it's accompanied by nausea and loss of appetite. Too brain-dead for writing most of the time, I've been trying to make up for this lack of productivity by checking out likely agents, catching up on the latest hot authors of historical/heroic fantasy, etc. But today, even though the sun has begun to peek out from behind the clouds in a literal sense, I'm still feeling pretty down.

The more I look at any story I try to write, the more I realize it's completely stupid, illogical, full of holes, badly written, and beyond saving. I suppose I should stop looking and just keep writing, but the feeling of futility is pretty overwhelming. I have a hard time working on something unless I have hope for it, and right now, both of my projects look like they may have flaws so profound I don't know how to fix them.

So do I leave them unfinished like I always do? Or do I stick with them, keep writing, keep working, even though right now I'd rather punch a hole in my hand with a ball point pen?