Okay, I have to admit it….I’m struggling with my
current work in progress. Last time I wrote to you all, I told you that I’d cut
over 1600 words….and now, I’ve cut more.
I’m not sure why I’m struggling. Maybe because I’ve
been working on this WIP for quite some time. I usually write a book a year (I’m
a slow but steady writer). I had a nice flow going and then COVID hit and I
found that I just couldn’t concentrate (plus I started working from home at
that time which really messed up my routine…and as you all know, my life
revolves around my routines!).
I didn’t write a blessed word for over four months.
After that period of time (where I found a new
routine), I decided enough is enough. I love writing. It’s my passion. My joy. My
sanity (it’s the only place I can really control everything). I enjoy making up
stories and characters so I started working on it again (sometimes forcing
myself) and once again, I was moving along at a nice steady clip. And then, I
lost over 5000 words and had to recreate what I lost, which again, put me
behind schedule.
I was ready to give up and just work on something
else, but I couldn’t. My characters kept…well, badgering me is the only way I
can say it. In my head. All the time.
I’m slowly turning it around though. I had a lovely
conversation with my critique partner and we’ve pinpointed the problem. It’s
not the story. It’s not the characters. It’s me and the self-appointed timeline
that has always been my mantra, the one that keeps repeating over and over--one
book a year. One book a year.
Well, this book is taking more than a year, but you
know what? It doesn’t matter. So what if it takes two years? That’s okay. As
long as the finished product is the very best I can do, that’s all that
matters.
I think I’ll go write some words! Thanks for
listening!
Marie
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