The Blank Stare

Last night I felt like banging my head on the desk.

I just couldn’t get started. I stared at the screen, as if anticipation for the characters to tell me what it is they were suppossed to do. I read over my pages from the day before. "Talk to me!" I thought. "Keep it going..." I had my outline. I knew what needed to happen. But still, I stared and stared, the light of the screen drying out my eyeballs.

But then something happened.

I said, “Ah, screw it” and just started writing something…anything…I told myself I needed to get some pages and it didn’t matter if the pages get cut later or not. Who cares if its good? Just get it down.

So I did.

And after about five pages of crap, I started to get into it and plunged into scenes I knew I had to write (scenes I was probably avoiding).

So the lesson here is sometimes, you just have to keep going, whether you feel like it or not. Because that's what writers do. They write.

By the way...didn't I say earlier how somewhere near p. 90 the other psychological hurdle comes into play? Well, there it is...or there it went, actually.

(Page count is now 110 —we are WAY overwriting…I figure when I go back to rewrite I will cut about thirty to forty pages, at least.)

Tonight I finish the draft. Whoohoooo!