Warning: minor whinge ahead. Blame it on the rain (and yes, you will all now have Milli Vanilli stuck in your head for the rest of the day, bwahahaha) –even the damn air is wet in Maine right now. Some summer. So anyway…
I’ve been writing in 500-700 word increments for the past month or so.
I hate that. I am a spoiled creature, and I’m used to turning out 1000+ per hour and feeling pretty good about what I put on the page: in a given week, as long as there’s not too much going on, I can turn out a minimum 4K that has already been through my preliminary I-can’t-help-it, slightly obsessive edit as-I-go process, which generally means I’m more or less happy with it, and will leave it alone until I’ve finished the first draft and decided to rewrite at least 15% of the chapters in the book.
Taking unexpected (or expected) RL craziness, social events, and inevitable moments of laziness that can sometimes turn a three day weekend into a shameful TV-watching marathon, that means I should be able to start and finish a novel in, say, 32 weeks. And that’s giving me plenty of room for messing around.
No so, or at least not this time.
I sit down with my coffee, mess around on teh interwebs for five minutes or so, get my music going, open my WIP… and crawl. It’s like I forgot how to type sometime in May. I know, more or less, where this scene is going; I know more or less how this chapter will end, and how the next one will begin (and end). I know, more or less, how this book is supposed to end. And yet here I sit, painstakingly eking out two paragraphs at a time before I realize I’ve been there for 90 minutes and it’s time to get ready for work. It’s like going to the gym in your sexay workout clothes, mp3 player at the ready and workout plan in hand… and calling it a day after a set of biceps curls. Frustrating doesn’t begin to cover it.
Either I’m burnt out from being swamped in my day job (and I am swamped: June in my profession is always a bit of a bitch) or my experiment with writing a book sans detailed outline is going to be a damned short-lived one.
Suggestions? Advice? Chocolate?