I had an amazing time driving across Canada. I saw the Rockies for the first time, I visited old friends. I lived in my mom’s basement for a few days, then camped and got all liquored up at a music festival for a few more days. Finally, it was a brand new month and our tenants moved out. Time to Go. Home.
I’m currently typing on a laptop in the spare room, as tenant’s cat wrecked our office and we decided to just generally rip out carpets, paint walls, lay down some laminate etc. while our things were still packed up.
Zero draft worthy pages have been committed to compy or paper in the month since I last checked in here.
Sit down with a pen and paper and get going again. And do you know what? I was able to get back in the habit a lot more quickly than I have done after previous quitting sessions. A couple of problem characters are starting to untangle and define themselves (not all the way through, yet, but as I like to say during heavy traffic, any movement forward is better than sittin’ still.) Also, I came up with a wonderful way to get my two not-quite-romantic leads together, and it is more fun and just more sweet (to me) than previous tries. And since at this point I’m the only reader and they gotta win back my interest and love, that actually counts for something.
Does anyone else have trouble turning off their internal editing voice? the little Mr Hyde version of yourself that likes to peek over your shoulder and put down every new idea as overdone, cliche, forced, plain ol’ stupid? Apparently the last few weeks’ vacation have done wonders for my creepy imaginary critic, and she’s got all kinds of things to say… but creative me is managing to slog through it. I’ve been going back over and over again to Tim Hallinan’s collection of essays on Finishing your novel and Laini Taylor’s novel-writing series ‘not for robots’.
Baby steps, baby.
Now where’s them new pages at? I have work to do!