"I have done nothing with time."
I know I'm entering a funk because snatches of Jim Morrison poems keep coming to mind. Maybe it's the nearness of the "spring" semester (which won't seem silly to me in March, but sounds misleading while we're celebrating days when the temp goes up to 35 degrees F.); I had big plans for a revisions push during the break, but all I managed was one slip into a rabbit hole and many hours of staring at the screen.
A dear friend announced that I'd been at it too long and I should give the project to her to look over, and start something completely fresh. Brilliant idea! Er, in theory.
After handing it off and working on something brand spanking new...I was shocked to find that new sucked. Fascinating world, a half-baked character, and no plot to speak of. And the more I worked on the plot, the more it sucked. I didn't just spend a long time writing The Hidden, I spent a long time pre-writing. An idea--just a whisp of a thought--crossed my mind while I was doing dishes one night long, long ago. I recognized it as something worth persuing, so I dried off my hands, wrote it down, and then went back to doing dishes. It was months before a minor character in another (never to be finished) story said, "Hey, that's about me." And ever so many more months later, I understood him and what his story was about.
"To make works in the face of the void..."
If it takes me that long just thinking about it...
Why share this funk? Well, because it's my blog, and I can. Because I'm thinking of keeping a log like some messed up food diary, but instead of counting calories I'd count minutes, days, hours passed not writing. Because I want something to click while I'm typing. Something that will begin a great change and I will go from someone who has taken years to produce a not-really-done book to someone who creates several fabu works in a year. And because after I get this crap out of my system, I can move through it and get things done.