The sticking point
So, no blog post yesterday, you’ll notice. But that’s okay, because I barely scrapped in 500 words, and if you want to get angry about something, get angry about that.
The reason for this lapse in writing was being totally undisciplined, and wanting to have a social life and an evening with my girlfriend. Unforgivable, I know, but this isn’t the final week yet – if she isn’t sick of my typing and complaining by next Friday then I’m pretty sure she’s a keeper – so I felt a night off was allowed.
I shall make up for it tonight, though – I have the cash squirreled away for take-out pizza, so I shall cycle back from my place of day-work, shower, then bind my hands to the keyboard for the whole night. I feel this is a chance to put into practice the most important piece of advice in Chuck Wendig’s list of tips for getting past the sticking point:
“Shut Up and Put Your Back Into It
Alternately, if none of the above crap works, just shut up and do the time. Write through it. Flail about like a beached carp on your keyboard. Vomit words. Make shit up. Spasm. Smash together sentences with the grace and aplomb of a drunken moose. Writing isn’t magic. The end result may feel that way, but it’s just putting one word in front of the other. Do that until you feel the novel find its groove. It’ll happen. I swear. You might even go back and look at those vibrating word-spasms and think, “That was actually better than I thought. I expected literature on par with the holy books penned by a tribe of trilobites, but this is at least on the level of what a headless chicken could manage if you stuck a fountain pen in his neck stump.” There’s this feeling in exercise where you hit the wall but then, if you keep pushing past it, you suddenly get a surge of go-juice again. This is like that. Keep writing until you’re out of the dark and into the light.”
Writing is work. It is fun, most of the time, and a damn sight more creative than the day-work, but work nonetheless. But sometimes work is hard, and you do it anyway. Peace out, bitches o/
Word-count update: After a ruddy hard night, and a bizarrely easier morning, I am up to 3839/7500. This puts me about 1000 words behind where I wanted to be, but that’s what you get for two half-days. I am considering taking the coming Monday off as leave, as for a number of reasons I can’t dedicate the entire weekend to writing as I wish. Monday will be the day of first-draft finish, I swear to the gods.