Stop hectoring me!
Writing Advice: What Is Going On?! Is There A Sign On My Back?
Today has been a Rube Goldberg machine of suck. For instance, I’ve had terrible heartburn all day, so it’s off to a roaring start.
I went into the bathroom to get some Tums. Mmmmm! Chalk! As I was putting the berry-flavored talcum pills away, I slammed my finger in the drawer. I cried out. This set off the parrot, who came screeching and flapping around the corner.
Not expecting a bird attack at this moment, I ducked the parrot (Jellybean, incidentally) and hit my head on corner of the door frame. The bird landed on my shoulder. I sank to my knees in pain, whacking my left knee on the same door frame. So I am sitting there on a bathroom floor looking like the world’s worst-dressed, clumsiest pirate.
So how does one sit down to write after this?
In my case, one writes with an ice bag on their head, a limp, and with their left hand.
You know how people are advised to get back on the horse after being bucked off? Right now I am inclined to sell the horse for glue, then sell the people with said advice for glue as well.
Until the ibuprofen kicks in, I think I’m ready to convert most of the world into glue. You are the exception, unless you mention horses, writing, parrots, Tums, heartburn, minor trauma, and/or glue.
But I have to write this novel. When I don’t, I get twitchy and can’t stop thinking about the story. It’s back to the mindfields, friends!
And what’s not to like about laboriously taking twenty minutes to turn one sentence into two, then decide that neither were needed and erasing them both to start a new sentence?
So when things get a little crazy and the unlikely events stack up on you like unlikely, stacking things, what do you do? Seriously! I would really like to know!
Personally, I just force myself to sit down and type. Anything. However, typing “anything” doesn’t exactly fire up the imagination.
So I made myself a graphic about the goal of this process:
I think that’s a pretty fair representation of the process. I am working on getting from the first to the last. What isn’t portrayed are the thousands of pictures going from one to the other.
Writing is fun! Rewriting is an interminable chore. It’s fleshing out slowly, and I’ll get there after a few months worth of frustration and occasional times of wanting to do ANYTHING else but what I have to. But I will get there.
Provided the horse I am supposed to crawl back on doesn’t trample me first after a series of implausible accidents.