It was so easy last week. I just sat down and fired out words, characters, situations.
This week, even though I know where I want them all to go, it’s suddenly so much harder to get started.
I ended up not adding to the word count at all yesterday, even after being inspired in the morning. I struggled through this morning the same way, making notes about what I have so far, consulting earlier plans about what’s supposed to be happening in the story at this point, where I need to go in the next quarter of the wordcount. And then I failed to write.
In the end, I had to listen to an interview with Barbara Kingsolver, take some books back to the library, settle myself down at the coffee shop, drink a massive cappuccino, fire up Carmina Burana under the headphones, read the NaNoWriMo pep talk by Karen Russell and force myself to write dry, turgid prose for half a page, before I even got remotely started.
844 words later, I’m calling it a win and going home to get ready for the boys coming home. At least I have a partial scene started so that I can pick it up later on today.
Writing doesn’t sound hard, but sometimes it ridiculously difficult to get words on the page!