Monday and Tuesday of this week were stellar writing days. I wrote about 2500 words over the span of both days. New-Willa-words. That’s a lot, for my pace. Wednesday and Thursday things slowed a bit. I wrote perhaps 600 words each of those days. Did a little plotting on the scene ahead. The scene I’m meant to be writing today. Friday. The day when Every. Word. Is. Like. Pulling. A. Tooth. With. A. String. And. A. Doorknob.
But I’m going to sit here for another hour and write them anyway. Every now and then on a day like today, if I just stick with it no matter how tempted I am to go watch a movie or ride another 5 miles on the bike (even exercise seems a better way to spend this next hour than writing), or go shopping or read myself into a nap, I might just push through this and find something surprising flowing onto the screen.
It’s happened before. 🙂
And it happened again. I seem to have to learn this at least one day a week, if not more. So chalk this up to another day of learning that even on days when the writing is nothing but work, if I just get something onto the screen, no matter how little it resembles the fragrant, urgent, nuanced scene that’s in my head, I can make it better.
Now I can stop and go make the pot of soup that will be my dinner. So glad I won’t walk into the kitchen and look at the carrots and onion and ham steak and pinto beans and broth and rosemary laid out on the table and wonder how in the world will I make that into a meal?
One ingredient at at time. Then just let it stew for a while.
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