Then the guilt slithers in on greasy ooze. "You procrastinator! Sleezeball! You need to get this manuscript finished! How dare you allow yourself to be distracted by John Barrowman and Torchwood!"
So I return to slog through another four or five pages of uninspired wordage, hoping that when I finish and go back over it, new insight will spark and revise it into masterful prose.
Garbage. I seem to be spewing garbage onto the page. But I know that eventually, I'll run out of crap and something decent will emerge. But the discipline to keep plodding on is elusive. I think I'll just go to bed and hope sleep will recharge the batteries for my muse.Or do I simply need to repeatedly sing Oscar's theme song, "I Love Trash?"
It's the heat - it's not the heat - it's the humidity--- it's my age---why did I ever think I could be a writer--- I need more sleep ... those arguments and more are possible excuses for pouring out tons of junk writing. And yet,when viewed on another day, somewhere in the junk may be a kernel of good writing; one or two phrases may lead to brilliant, Nobel prize writing...or not. As I read this I find I've written junk...so I think I'll go read my Kindle and discover what real writers have put down on page after page of wonderful writing...which lead to great reading.
ReplyDeleteGood idea. Still, I think we need to have fermentation time to think about what we want to say and how to say it.
ReplyDeleteSounds like you're where I am at the moment, Jude - needing a break to think!
ReplyDeleteIt all gets overwhelming sometimes with the marketing and everything on the Interwebs, doesn't it? And just when I think I have some good ideas I have to actually work at my day job...sigh.
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