Am I the only writer around to unintentionally take time off?
No writer’s block.
So what was it? Did I not know how to end the book? Maybe.
So how did I feel not working on my novel? Like the life had been literally sucked out of me. Truly. Like I was a ship without a safe harbor. Clichés? Sometimes you have to say what you feel and just let it out.
It began with a few trips that put my writing life on a roller coaster.
You can always take your laptop with you on trips. But I’m weak. I always find other things to do. But this much I know. I don’t like it when I’m not writing. I don’t feel whole. I’m serious. (Oh, Darla, you’re just trying to have something to say to get this blog up.) No, it’s the truth. I am miserable. I mean utterly miserable. I am not myself.
My first book is currently with an excellent editor. So I have released that one. But my second book is weirding me out. It’s moving in a direction that has surprised me. And I like it. It borders on the best writing I’ve ever done. (And remember whose opinion that is…) But I am feeling terrific today and wrote from 5 -11:30 a.m. and had a glorious reunion with myself. And how did I get back on track?
I got up, put the coffee on, kept all the windows shuttered and began reading and editing the last forty pages. Editing words, making corrections and amazing myself at what I had previously written.
Funny thing is I got to page 240 and anxiously scrolled down awaiting the next page only to discover blank pages. It seems I had stopped there. No, no and no!!!! What happens next?It was good and it was bad.
It was good because I realized that it was exciting enough that I was in turmoil because I didn’t know what happened. Yet, I was in a funk until tomorrow the same time when I work out the dilemma I left them in. Will I kill off a character? I think I have to. Will it hurt? Probably. Will they feel it? Hey this is fiction.