Tag Archives: motivation

Getting By.

Lately, I have felt an underlying dissatisfaction with everything I’ve done. I don’t feel like anything I do is good enough. I don’t know who I’m aiming to please if I’m honest. I want to please myself, but I don’t know what I want.

University is still a bit of a struggle. I’ve had to do a lot of work in the last few days, and I have an exam on Monday. I can’t imagine it will go too well.

I’m still bored. I have enjoyed going to the cinema on my own if I’m honest, there’s something peaceful about it. Sad, like a spinster, but peaceful nonetheless.

NaNoWriMo was a disaster, but I did change my plan of what I was going to do. I haven’t started Plan B yet. I have been thinking about it, but lately I’ve had no time to do anything. And we all know that if I had the time, I wouldn’t do it anyway. The thought of sitting in silence watching television repeats on this squeaky spinning chair suddenly seems very appealing when I have the spare time. I think the attempt at writing my novel has shaken my writing confidence. I thought I’d be good at it, but wowzas I was poor. So, when I restart, it will be nice and small.

I’m getting by with life, but I don’t feel particularly satisfied. I need a spark to reignite my passion for something. Anything at all. Something new, or something old. Something will come along eventually, something productive I hope. I will let you know if it does.

I will start posting blog posts of some value at some point, but today is not the day. Neither is tomorrow.


University is a struggle…

I guess the title says it all really – I have found university to be a struggle, a constant uphill battle against losing my sanity.

At first, I just missed home. I like where I’m from, despite the lack of things to do, but I liked doing nothing.

Then, I felt lonely. I’ve had a lot of me time at university, too much me time. I love my own company, but there’s a point where I become insufferable to myself.

Next, it was shear boredom. Again, I love watching TV and going on my computer and playing on my playstation, but I don’t like them being the only things I do. I could have done productive activities in this time, but you know, laziness. I’d rather sit in complete silence, in complete blackness for hours on end than do something productive for an hour. I’m definitely not a ‘doer’…

I don’t really miss home anymore. I love Liverpool. I’ve been home a few times now, and I’m used to being away from my family, so that is less of a challenge. I don’t really feel lonely anymore, I’ve come to terms with my near hermit lifestyle. Even the boredom has become near routine, and I find it less boring. Somehow.

Now, the struggle is university itself. I don’t enjoy it. Only one out of five modules interests me even remotely. It feels like a chore, but less of a chore than school was. It’s like being told to tidy your room. I don’t really want to do it, but I do it anyway. I don’t enjoy lectures, I much prefer classroom teaching. It doesn’t help that 90% of the lecture content is dull, but some of the lecturers seem to share my enthusiasm of what they teach. I like the debate style of teaching, talking about the subject. Not sitting in silence, under dim lighting,  reading a powerpoint, making notes (doodles), and then typing it up after. If I make notes on slides, I miss what the lecturer says (and the slides often change too fast). If I write down what the lecturer says, I won’t have written what was on the slides, and those notes will be meaningless without the context of the information on the powerpoint slides. Sigh. And don’t get me started on Scientific Journals. Holy moly. The less said about them the better, I’m bored just thinking about them. People who can read them with enjoyment are truly blessed.

I think if I could do the whole ‘going to university’ thing again, I’d have done a different course in Media. I think that’s more me, and I’d enjoy it more as it’s not just about remembering facts, it’s more creative. I’m just rubbish at science, I winged it at GCSE and did well, I winged it at AS Level and did alright, and then worked harder at A Level, and did poor. A U (equivalent to an F for American readers I think, it means ungraded. An exam paper so poor it didn’t even merit a grade…) in my final Physical Education exam should have showed where I’m at to be honest. I’ve always been naturally smart, not a genius, but I’ve always known stuff. When the content was easy (Pre-A Levels), I knew the stuff as it was nice and simple. But now it is more complex, I just can’t do it. I can’t remember the stuff. All the names of the muscles, the bodily processes. I just can’t remember them, no matter how many times I read my notes. I’m struggling to recall things I’ve learned. Why shoes have big heals was the first thing we were told, so I remember that, and I understood the stuff about proprioception due to me reading about it a couple of years ago to argue that there are more than five senses. Other than that…

It upsets me that I’m not enjoying it. My parents were so excited for me to go to university, and I feel like I’m letting them down. They always say stuff when the football is on, about how that’ll be me, and how proud they’ll be. I think that’s what is keeping me going, the fear of letting them down, as they are the two people I respect and value most in the world, and they’ve made sacrifices financially so I could get here (they could probably own a yacht if I wasn’t such a drain on funds haha!). But realistically, will I get the ‘dream’ job I’m here for? On a course of forty, last year four people got the internships which are considered near crucial to getting into the line of work I’m interested in.

I don’t even know if this career sector is what I want anymore, maybe it is just because university is getting me down.

I’m sure I’ll be fine, I’ll be perked up by the end of today. Maybe I’m just cranky because I’ve been a awake for 20 hours and had no sleep, due to noise. Christ, I’m such a shit student.

I’ll update you as my non-existent bipolar disorder causes another shift in my life view, which will be somewhere on the scale of ‘In Tears At Everything’ ————- ‘Euphoric’. Hopefully the latter.

Only 3 hours, 19 minutes until I plan on going to the library. The times between 2 and 6 a.m. shouldn’t exist. Today will be a long day…


I said on the 4th October I was going to do/attempt NaNoWriMo for the first time.

It has come up on me fast. I’ve been trying to do more work for university on top of university. Also, I’ve been saying I’m going to go to the gym (I must point out that I’ve done a lot of saying, not a lot of going). Plus, I’ve got an exam as soon as the 31st October, and a couple in November. At £9,000 a year (plus £4k+ on accommodation), exams need to take priority, unfortunately. My course is bloody hard so I won’t be able to ‘wing’ it.

But I guess that is the point of NaNo, putting all that effort in despite everything else, writing every second you’re free for a month. If it was easy it wouldn’t be worth doing, and everyone would do it.

The goal in my head is still the obvious 50k, but I’d be content with about half of that. I’m 18 years old, I (hopefully) have a lot of years left to write this novel. But, I think that would be a solid base to build on, and that would be enough momentum to keep me cracking into December. I get three weeks off at Christmas, so hopefully I have the entire thing finished by the end of that. I’ve never set a word goal, but I guess 80-100k would be nice.

I’ve prepared more than I thought I would have over the last two and a half weeks, with a lot of chapters planned out, more names created and more work done on my map. But, bloody names are still the bane of my life. On the plus side however, 60% of my POV characters have names. They’ll be the ones I crack on with in NaNo.

I’ll be trying hard to do more preparation over the coming weeks, and hopefully everyone can smash NaNoWriMo.

Have a good week everyone x.

Why I Want To Write A Novel.

Hello again, fancy seeing you here.

People who follow me will know that I’m making slow progress writing my first novel, like now for example. My pen and paper are next to me, but I’m writing this post instead. If I could have wrote as many words on my book as I have on my blog I’d be flying and delighted, but the words seem to flow easier when I’m blogging. No idea why, it just does.

I haven’t told many people that I am writing a novel, I’m not sure why, I just haven’t felt the need to. I think it might be because I have this image in my head of nobody knowing about it, and then having me sitting on a chat show on TV talking about my bestseller and previewing the movie of my novel. I think that’d shock a few people from school…

I was with a friend for the first time in the school holidays and he asked me what I’d been up to. I said, “TV, homework, playstation, writing…” He cut me off. “Why are you doing that [writing]?” he replied.

I didn’t really tell him, I didn’t know what to say, but now I’m going to tell you.

  1. One day, whilst going through my favourite things in real world history (The Romans and Hannibal Barca, Joan of Arc, English and Scottish History) and learning about new interesting things (Custer’s last stand, unknown religions to me, etc.) a story just came to me in my head. I wrote down what I was thinking, of how many main characters there would be, a map started to form in my head, and I was excited by it. I knew I had to write it down. My favourite books and some of my favourite films/TV shows are fantasy fiction, so I’d be writing something I would enjoy aswell. And I was that excited, I just wanted to tell people.
  2. Since then it has been a struggle. The map has gone very well, but I’ve struggled with names, and the naming issue has held me back to now. This adversity (I like that word…) has motivated me in a different way to point number one, I now want to prove to myself that I can do it. I rarely stick anything through to the end with maximum effort, so I want to do this to build my character, and to give myself and hopefully my family something to be proud of.
  3. If I do finish it, which I of course will *gulp*, I will just love the feeling of seeing my book on a shelf, and being proud I accomplished it.

I’m not writing this book now for money, I’m writing it for a sense of achievement in myself. Then it will be to perhaps entertain people I’ve never met for a few days. The money doesn’t matter to me. I don’t think I could be a full time writer, I don’t really know why, but I want to have a career in the degree I will be pursuing from September (Sport Science). If it gets me a couple of quid a week for some pocket money, that would be great.

Obviously deep down I want my novel to be the greatest book ever written, most sold and most read, making me rich enough to never do anything again, all the luxuries possible, knowing my children and my children’s children will be financially secure and be able to have many luxuries.

But I’m more than content at being proud of myself.

That is why I am going to finish this novel my friends, to say I, Alex Wells, did it all by myself.

Thanks for reading.