this morning was dangerously close to turning into a repeat of yesterday’s joys. i was forcing myself to write, to at least get something on the page, but this never lasted more than a paragraph before i scribbled it out. i tried jumping forward to a scene i’ve been looking forward to writing when working on the outline, and this felt promising, initially, but quickly fell apart.
utterly frustrated and feeling very lost and more than a little afraid that i’ve hit a wall i wouldn’t overcome, i decided to try something else completely. not surfing the ‘net or playing a game on the computer (which i’ve done too much of already); instead, i picked up another story idea (The Aesthetician [formerly called Salve]) i’ve had rolling around, and tried my hand at that.
i had a few pages of notes from a few months ago that i’ve been carrying around everywhere but doing nothing else with, so i read through them and i found myself already writing the story. in twenty minutes i had more written on this idea than on HHNF these past two days combined.
this one is a short story, though. i’m not sure if the length made a difference to my subconscious, but i decided not to overthink it. i even chose to write it straight on the computer, rather than hand-write first. a little more than an hour later, i had nearly four pages written and i’m excited to continue.
that’s what’s been missing: the excitement to continue.
of course, it’s hard to ‘continue’ when you haven’t really ‘started’, but for some reason HHNF is not sparking me right now, so i’m going to use what’s working. maybe getting a new short story out will kick-start the writing juices for HHNF.
of course, tomorrow, i’m back to the computer job, but if i still feel this way about The Aesthetician in the morning, i’ll have no problem getting a couple more pages out before breakfast.
ah, the hubris.