"Patience is not among my virtues.”
-Gwydion, Nectar from a Stone by Jane Guill, pg 96
“The mind is its own place, and in itself can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.” ― John Milton, Paradise LostSomething good happened over the weekend. Friday, to be exact.
I picked up the story I shelved.
No, it didn't stay on the shelf long, and I'm glad for it. Friday the 13th is lucky after all. Must be the black cats I got hanging around my yard.
I'm not one for planning. If I'm writing about the story, then I don't want to write the story.
What I wrote this weekend is a total load of crap. But I don't care. I'm writing it again. Amazing what a few thousand words between Friday through Monday can do for a person.
I'm a situational writer. Some writers use the dreams they have. Some writers start with a character. I start with a situation. Then I worry about who they are, what they want, and how are they going to get out of this mess?
Throw them in hell and see how they get themselves out of it. Or drag them down with you and make them lead you out, depending on the kind of day you're having.
So, that's what I did. Really, I'm not even writing the same story anymore. I'm just using all the same character names. That's how much has changed since 2005.
Also, remember that Typer's Block I've talked about? I can finally write on my computer again and not in a composition book to be moved onto the computer.
I'm writing. On my computer. A lot. I love it!