It is always hard but inevitable when I fall off the wordcount ladder. When I go from 2000 or more words a day down to 100 or less, but as with weight loss I am not going to berate myself for falling off…only for failing to get back on. I can’t spend my time yelling at what a lazy slacker I am I’ve got work to do! Words to write! A novel to finish! By Memorial Day even!
Oh but that initial push to get back from the zero wordcount that is my holiday routine is grueling. I find myself struggling to get even 300 words out of my parched brain, and the 800 words that Day has asked for is nearly impossible.
That is until I get into the groove again, until I begin to type with an idea in my head and characters that are willing to respond. Then it flows like water again, and I wonder why I ever fell off. I wonder what is so awful that I can’t just keep doing this day after day.
Then I get distracted or run out of pre-designed scenes to lay down like pavement…I come to the end of the sidewalk, the last dribbling bits of asphalt and I stand there wondering what the hell to do next. Yeah, then I remember. Then I know what stopped me. It was the blank wall looking back at me that scared me like a groundhog back into my den for another 6weeks of nothing to show for it. When I am in full 2000 word swing, it becomes less about what I know I’m going to write than what happens next in the world. What logical or illogical thing would occur next? Well that is what should be written. Instead of what am I going to write next, oh god, what am I going to write next.
Well, I’m writing this entry to lube up the synapses and then onto whatever. As long as I keep stringing words together…what the hell, why not?
Peace to you.