So the parents are in town this week, hence the low count. Their arrival both excited and filled me with dread.
A break in writing – in worrying about word count, in trying to figure out how in the hell to steer these characters toward the end of the book when all they wanted to do is screw around (not literally, lol), dragging out the already too long middle – sounded absolutely wonderful.
But the stupid little voice in my head – which some days I’d like to stab with a pointy object – said what if this break made the block I thought was gone but really was like, “Haha, maybe I am, maybe I’m not. Let’s play it day by day, shall we?” come back in full force? What if I came back to writing after the parents left and have to struggle just to write 100 words let alone 1,000?
In the end, I was like…
I may regret my cavalier attitude come Tuesday. May regret not employing “novel engagement” and writing twenty minutes each day. But in the mean time, I’m enjoying spending time with my parents…
… and picturing that stupid little voice bound and gagged.
How was your week?