I hate it when I go for a bit without writing fiction (because of work, and non-fiction writing stuff) and then I get back in and everything just kind of clunks along. It’s a royal pain in the ass, trying to get back into the groove again. I mean, once I’m there, I’M THERE and everything rocks. But those first 5-6k worth of words- stuff to toss out. And for some reason, that annoys me.
…..Is a little old place where we can GET TOGETHAAA!!!!! (LOVE SHACK….)
Don’t feel like the Lone Ranger.
Last night it took me over two frakkin’ hours to longhand 1K. Usually only take me roughly 45 minutes. I was finished with one section of the novel and beginning the next section. And banging my head against a wall just *this close* to the next crisis point for the protag. Now I can rock ‘n’ roll with the unstuck-Celtic goodness today and tonight.
But, yeah, Paul, having to toss thousands of words to reach those blessed epochs of momentum hurts.
Oh yeah, I figured I’m not alone with this. I’m actually used to this process by now, and I know when I’m out of touch and getting back into the swing of things.
Turned around this past weekend and had a two-day getaway with the wife while the in-laws graciously kept the kids. I foreswore and disavowed all writing. And on the long drive to and from north Georgia–all roads lead to Rome, GA–I had several breakthroughs on complications and two epiphanies as writer re: a pair of characters and kept it all on ye olde mental loop. More weird and idiosyncratic fun awaits my protag and his secret helper . . .
My big personal gripe right now is while the novel writing is plugging along, it’s hard for me to hedge short story writing time, which I really need to do–at least revise two short stories and get them onto the market. And I’m putting off writing an article on the speculative elements of three of Louis L’Amour’s westerns. Seriously. Some interstitial goodness there that’s definitely untapped.