And so there I was, happy as the proverbial clam… a surer sign of impending doom you will never see. *smirks*
I had 500 words to do on Book Three and a long afternoon of pure relaxation and quiet celebration ahead of me (see yesterday’s blog for the reason for said-celebration). I just wanted to meet my word quota for the day, put the computer down and spend a few hours doing nothing in the least bit consequential.
Well…
Two hours into my 500 word trek, I looked down at my screen to find I had written precisely one sentence, and a lousy sentence at that.
Usually the first 10k of a novel comes pretty easily for me. If I’ve got the plot nicely outlined, I can pick and choose what I want to work on for that day with remarkable ease. For example…
In the mood to write some lovin’?
Not a problem! I’ve got a dozen or sex scenes all ripe for literary scandalization.
Got a hankering for some banter?
Sure thing! There’s something like 30k of repartee waiting to be had.
Fisticuffs? Heart-pounding action? Drama dripping with the dramatic?
Let me flip to the end of the outline and there’s bound to be some juicy violence there.
However…
*sighs*
Yeah, however.
One stinking sentence after two hours of toiling.
To put an exclamation point to my futility, I ended up deleting that one stupid sentence altogether. (It truly was crap.)
So, at that point, I quit. I walked away from the whole thing and didn’t look back. I then proceeded to selfishly lose myself in my Xbox, like any responsible, professional, author would do.
Yep, that’ll show stupid, old Book Three.
*rolls eyes, while giggling just a little*
Here’s hoping your Tuesday is a bit more productive than my Monday was.
Until tomorrow…
Chloe