So far I’ve been writing pretty consistently, but after this weekend, I have hit a wall…
I wish I could blame it on writer’s block or a difficult plot hole I have to work around. But instead, I realized late on Sunday night that everything I had written in the three days prior had to be rewritten… UUUUGH can you just hear all those words spinning through the pipes? Those poor, crappy paragraphs. They never stood a chance. 😑
The problem was that I had realized the scene I was writing was DRAGGING…. How is the audience supposed to be excited if I’m not even interested? The scene presented crucial world-building information, sure, but somehow it was soooooooo uninteresting. Why not just shoot myself in the foot if I manage to make my own dark, weird world uninteresting?
So I’m hovering around the word count goal, now, because I’ve basically been rewriting the scenes in a new, completely different setting. It’s way better, it feels so much more organic to the story, but DAMN can I just say how disheartening this is? It’s like… I could practically see myself just holding those papers over a fire and laughing as it burned into ash. Laughing at my poor little writerly self whose wrist muscles are seriously taking a toll from writing by hand and then typing.
But, I still stand by my methods. This write-then-type approach is really keeping me in the story so that I can identify when things like this doesn’t work. And, just to make myself feel better, I kept the word count of the bad scenes in the NaNoWriMo calculator… they still count, right?
Ugh… yes, I am flustered. And yes, I am getting annoyed. But I have made it to the halfway point without skipping a day of writing.
I keep telling myself I have to make this a habit, because writing, albeit discouraging at times (hell, at most times) is really rewarding. I’m going to TRY and push through and at least finish the scene I’m working on right now even though I really just want to lay in a blanket burrito with some chocolate. Maybe it’s the weather, maybe it’s the shitty scenes, and maybe it’s just the idea that someday, somehow, I can be a REAL writer, and I’m still so far away. But the only way to get there is to keep going.
Until next time,