I’m settling back into a regular writing routine, still working on those last three chapters. They’re going to be the longest-to-write chapters I’ve ever written. Or not written. It’s not that they’re that difficult, or that I don’t know what I want. It’s more about needing to pull in all the elements of the story, and not having the brain to hold them all together at the same time.
Sometimes writing goes beautifully for me, fast and easy, and sometimes it’s as painful as pulling teeth. It isn’t writer’s block; it’s brain block, from allergies and asthma and colds. Christmas is always a little difficult, as I eat things I shouldn’t be eating and enjoy a live tree I’m probably allergic to. Add to this the interruptions of the season and the inevitable colds of winter, and I have spells of brain-deadness that are immensely irritating.
I’ve learned to persist, to work every day anyway (unless it’s a totally hopeless day – I just let those go). I pick away, in hopes that eventually that sparkle-in-the-brain will return and I’ll be able to fly through everything I’ve prepared in painful bits.
In the meantime, I have to believe they will return, those magical days when the words just flow.
Maureen
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