I've been thinking about what's standing in my way... besides complacency, that is. That's way too simple. As I pile up the word count and the pages add up, I find that my progress is slower and slower. I have an outline, I have a synopsis for each chapter but I have a wall infront of finishing this thing.
I sit here and wonder why I can't pull the trigger on these pages even though I have the outline, etc. Why I can't think around some of the corners that I write myself into and I'm frustrated. Frustrated. Angry. Depressed. Not wanting to talk about progress and page counts. And now it's after 9pm and I'm just getting started writing for the evening... after I blog.
Ok, I should write not blog now.
But I worry about whether I have a strong voice, a compelling story. I want to believe, as all writers do, that I have something in the 115 pages or so that I've written. So I slog on, even on days when I'm feeling just a wee bit agnostic about this whole thing.
1 comment:
perhaps a uncluttered desk/room would lead to an uncluttered mind?
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