The words are just not coming right now. I have all this information I need to convey in order for the upcoming Big Scene to make sense, and I have to lay a few future story threads. I stare at the screen, I write a sentence, I delete it, I shift stuff around, I stare some more. To quote Kurt Vonnegut, I feel like an armless legless man with a crayon in his mouth. I've been pecking away for two days and only made 322 words of progress.
This afternoon I tried to really buckle down and get some words, and instead got this idea for reworking the opening of Bresher's first POV chapter. Is there anything as brilliant as the inspirations we get when we're trying to avoid writing what we're supposed to be writing? I indulged it for a while and got 148 edited words for Bresher, but I can't in good conscience count that toward my January words.
The Son has school tomorrow (he was off today for MLK day) and The Husband has a few hours of work, and I'm hoping that a few hours of an empty, quiet house will help me to focus enough to push past this rough spot.
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