Thursday into Friday it sleeted here. Constantly. Crazily. All night. Meaning – I have been stuck in the house (only leaving once to go to the Post office & pick up my copy of “Gabriel’s Redemption” by Sylvian Reynard.)
You would think, not being able to leave, I’d jump into writing and work nonstop on my novel. Right. That would be the smart thing to do. Write while I can’t leave. Finish the first draft. Seriously? Why would I do that?
I should be working on the draft rather than just sitting in my house watching Netflix. A couple nights ago I decided to watch “Once Upon A Time” and now I’m addicted. In fact, as soon as I finish this post, about how I’m not writing, I’m going to watch more of the show on my laptop.
I still have all intentions of writing, I do. I have all intentions of finishing it. But I’m still stuck. I have wrote the beginning and the end. I’m having trouble finding the middle. Think of it as a sandwich. I have two pieces of bread and no bologna. (What a meat to think of, bologna.) I have a couple parts in mind to use, and I’ve basically wrote them out. However, it needs something else because it doesn’t make sense otherwise.
I will say this much, though. I may not be writing but I am thinking about it constantly. Always have paper around – in my purse, car, beside my bed, at my desk, & on my coffee table. I went out a couple Friday’s ago with some friends. In the middle of a ‘bar’ I began writing. Jotting down notes. Inspiration hits me at odd times and in weird places. That’s why I always have paper and a pen. However, that particular night I did not. I rode to Denton, Texas with someone else, leaving paper in my car. But someone had a slip in their purse along with a pen.
Maybe I am in over my head. Maybe not?
*shakes head* I WILL finish this book.
(If I can get the first draft finished I will upload a synopsis about it and see if it would be worth reading. Basically seeing if someone might want to buy it and if I should go ahead and try for it to be published. So here is to finishing the first draft. *lifts mug of cocoa* ching!)