Echoes in a Hollow Space

Today after rereading what I'd written the day before (the fun session) I had absolutely no desire to write more, couldn't think of a word to say. Very disappointing after yesterday, to say the least. I got mopey, thought I'd pull out a book and read.

"Just get over your damned self and write!" I sniped.

Faced with my own scowling visage, my fingers started clacking. I barely managed my standard three pages (and I'm interpreting that a wee bit liberally), but at least I got something on the page.

When gentle persuasion doesn't work, sweet cajoling, mild prodding—try out-and-out intimidation.

Usually when a novel is giving me such a hard time about getting words on the page, it's a sure sign that something is wrong, that I'm sending things in the wrong direction, or fighting what my characters think is best, or letting the left brain generally have too much of a say. I really don't think that's the case here. I think I've been molly-coddling myself because I haven't been well for a long stretch of time and I've just gotten in the habit of being mollyed and coddled. (Gosh, I sure hope mollyed isn't some obscure British slang for something naughty, like Bristol is.)

Sometimes we have to practice tough love with ourselves, I think. I know I do. YMMV.

Or maybe I'm finally starting to feel better and my drive is starting to reassert itself. Remains to be seen.

I've always wound up hating my novels by the time I'm writing the last of them, in a I-don't-want-to-do-this-anymore way. Not uncommon, I think. I'm literally within chapters of finishing Charged with Folly, but each writing session is a force myself situation, and I can barely eke out 500-750 words. I don't know why. Usually I get swept up in the "Oh! I'm almost finished!" excitement by this time, but it refuses to come. I know I've probably hated finishing other novels this much, but my perception of the moment (always an untrustworthy narrator) says this has been the worst.

Which is not at all the same as hating the novel as a piece of work. Even though this one has problems and will need some fixing, I'm overall happy with it. I think it will wind up being a decent piece of work once I whip it into shape. Flawed, but they're all flawed in their own way.

I've just got to get over this last little recalcitrant bit.

Okay, all done whining now. For now.

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