I’m writing this blog post as a method of procrastination.
I’m still halfheartedly working on my short story about two old ladies running for mayor and using magic to win. When I started, I was excited. In the week I was wrapping up the first draft of Shaken, I couldn’t stop thinking about this story.
But somehow in the middle of figuring out where the second act ends and the third act begins plotting a low point and a climax, I got tired. I killed the fun.
Today has gone something like this:
Kristin: “GAAAHHHH why can’t I make this story work?!” Glances at wordcount and sees she’s written 560 words total, and less than 150 today. “Hmm.” Goes to do laundry. Looks at story again. “Ugh, this sucks! I should just start over!” Goes to make iced tea. Looks at screen. “Yup, still sucks.” Keeps slogging on, at a pace of about one word per minute.
And now I’m writing a blog post.
The remedy? I have several things to try. The first is refilling the well. I’m going to the gym, where I’ll run like a rat on the treadmill and listen to Gaelic Storm until something shakes loose. I may read The Dragon Reborn on my Kindle, too, depending on my mood by the time I get there.
The second thing is give myself a break. I haven’t seriously written fiction in a few weeks, and I have a warm-up period. That’s okay. It’s just the way I work.
Finally, I’m going to write until the story gets fun again. Even if I have to write around and around the plot before I find what made that plot fun again.
Now, to report back to Scrivener with gritted teeth, unless you lovely readers have a suggestion for me. How do I recover from death by over-planning?