How did it happen? How is it that I’ve written only about 8000 words since November 2017?
First, my litany of excuses–some valid, some unworthy.
December was, well, the holiday season! At first, I kept saying, “tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow…” (who can guess the source of that quote?). When Christmas came and went with nary a word put to paper (or computer), I simply shrugged. Everyone deserves a break, right? I’d get back on track in January.
And I did, sort of–at half pace. I have a monthly goal of 10,000 words. 5000 seemed better than the December nothingness.
Two weeks into January, I was crushed by my first flu experience in thirty-plus years. I lost the last two weeks of the month.
Then there were no other excuses except the lethargy of inertia. Each day I woke vowing to knock off at least a thousand words. Most days I did much less or none at all. By the end of February, I had barely 3000 words written by the time we left on a 2 week Caribbean cruise. I thought–hoped–I might be inspired while away. But there was way too many fun things to do, and it was our first cruise ever, and I just had to immerse myself in the experience.
So here I am, almost halfway through March with nada.
How does one break through the inertia? My past practice is to go back and read what I last wrote. In addition to providing opportunities for editing after being away from it, getting back into my story often gets my creative juices flowing. The truth is, I’m excited about this novel. It is, in so many ways, much stronger than my previous writing. Immersing myself in, say, the last chapter or two might get me moving.
And then, as with any worthy effort, the good intentions have to translate into:
And I will.