Well, in the midst of changing a relatively minor detail in the second scene of my book, that crazy wonderful moment of "I'm not writing anymore, it's the characters possessing my fingers" happened and then I realized, "Oh wow, is this gonna change a thing or two."
So good news. The best news. But a lot of new work.
And I'm trying to finish by the 1st. Here's my grocery list since I'm about to become a shut-in:
1. Energy drinks, lots and lots of them
2. Vegetables and fruit
3. Some chocolate
Something I've wanted to post for a little while. From Nick's email newsletter, something that spoke to me about what I'm going through right now:
"Then, last night, my heart started trying to crawl out of my chest. This would be a signal that something is wrong. I’ve missed an important detail. And, of course, I know what this detail is.
I’m not writing.
....But it has been too long already. I am far past the point where it is okay for me to not be writing. I am not working, and I can feel my blood gathering for a mutiny.
There has to come a point where I stop making excuses for myself, for why I'm not writing, and realize that my time is finite and, sooner or later, I'm going to get cut down by something I cannot understand, and until then I have this thing called time, and I don't know how much of it I have, only that it will run out, and the only sin I won't be forgiven for is not using it while it sat in my hands. Because I was lazy. Because I was ignorant. Because I was afraid.
I started five poems last night. I also worked on my book for the first time in two months. Pretty much everything I wrote was crap, but it’s a start. Just get the engine running. The detritus will clear itself out eventually.
And tonight, I write this. You’ll probably read it tomorrow. Funny how that works."