O mighty keyboard!

‘Course I realise I went about this backassward. Instead of simply referring to it as homework, I should be documenting the “journey” I’m on while writing this novel. I’ve sprinkled bits and pieces of crud here and there, but the journey, the wanky creative journey, or my process, whatever the hell you want to call it, can be included as a piece of my exegesis. 

Can’t it?

So how much have I done today? It’s nearly 4pm and I’ve done jack.  Laundry and grocery shopping doesn’t count. Email and LJing don’t either. Nor does stopping in the middle of the afternoon to have a coffee, cinnamon toast and Rachel Gibson fest at my fave local cafe–where they don’t even have to ask what I want.

I am getting the Mt Everest of washing done–without the aid of a porter or sherpa–but as far as Dominic and Lesly go?  Well, that’s a great big negatory, null nada zilch zero.

You get the picture.

Some may consider this writer’s block. I don’t. I know myself well enough to understand I futz around because the juice isn’t there. I don’t force myself to write when I’m like this. It’s not quite distraction or even disinterest. It’s an elsewhereness. My brain is elsewhere. I know the creative waters will burst. The baby will come when it is ready. It always does.

I do wonder what it will be like to write to a deadline. Oooh. will I rise to that challenge? Will it be counter-intuitive? Counter-productive? Will I resent it?

Ask me when it’s nearly April. That is my deadline. That’s when everything is due.

So right now, at 65K words–I figure I’ve got another 30-35,000 in me. 

Just not today.

Hello Rachel Gibson!

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