Writing for Academic Publication and that novel I always meant to write

So I have started this course at Brighton University called 'Writing for Academic Publication' which is a bit like 'Writing the Greatest Novel in the World Ever' in terms of the 'gulp - I can't seem to write a word' intimidating task factor. I have just re-read my vintage at goodwood diary which is clunky as hell. Turning to Susan Stewart I find the notes I made two-ish years ago are scant (and a bit embarrassing)- realising a trip to the bookshop would be wise I am suddenly very happy to have a distracting task.
Factoring in some TV watching also seems crucial, but I know it isn't.
Still, when I am away from my desk the idea of writing this paper seems really exciting - I guess I just have to limber up like a ballerina.
Part of the problem I think is the fact that the Vintage festival itself threw up a few issues in terms of identity and (I am searching for one of those American words like 'closure') legitimacy (that's not the one, but it will do): Who am I, why am I writing this, am I creating a nice critical academic distance from the things that matter to me in order to make an emotional raft for myself? Where does the vintage-fan end and the researcher begin?
So when I sit down to write my paper, I feel like there is a version of me saying 'aw, look at you writing your little paper: tinkering with these ideas won't save you' and 'making something out of nothing, just like Seigfried (see the entry under 'Criticism' http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Siegfried_Kracauer )' and then another one says 'as if you could even write about nothing with anything near the elegance of Siegfried you silly girl'.
I have to remember to transcend these, to leave the suitcase of critical papers at the door and just write - just write!