What in the world is more frustrating for a writer than staring at a blinking curser?
Not that I would so much call myself a writer, I’ve only been seriously at this for a couple of years after all. But as it is what I spend the majority of my free time doing (or fish life if I’m home, how lame) than I guess I qualify as one. I may not be published-on paper- but I think I have enough of a following in my internet publishing’s that I can group myself in with all those others out there.
But back to the original question…
I know what I want to say, but not how to say it. I even have completed little blips in my head of scenes throughout the story, but it’s the getting started part that’s always a bother.
It doesn’t help that I’m so easily distracted.
Like this here. I could be working out the opening scene, like actually typing it out even if it means writing and deleting a dozen times before I get it right. But instead I’m wasting my time writing down what I’m thinking, because that’s really accomplishing something…
Your fans are waiting Sue, you need to get something out before they abandon you.
Would you really? Abandon me I mean, because of a little writer’s block?
That’s funny, I thought I was writing this to myself, huh…
Not that my mind is completely void of openings, I have several ready to go actually, just none pertaining to Anya and her story.
Oh look, a cat…
(Sigh) So now I’ve wasted even more time trying to get this stray to come see me. She did, but once she figured out I had no food she took off. She was very pretty though, a dusty grey with long soft fur. I wonder if the man would be against…now that’s a thought not worth finishing. It took me weeks to convince him to adopt the cat I have now. He really didn’t have much of a choice in that though. My cat adopted me, not the other way around. Of course when I mentioned in passing about that abandoned rottie, suddenly my yard was fenced in and a dog house appeared over night (shakes head).
(Another sigh) I can’t even focus on my distractions…
Why is it so difficult for me to write beginnings? I have novels upon novels in my head, several already mapped out, they just need to be started. But everyone has an aklies heel right?
(Phone rings) Ugh, my mom. Not that I don’t want to talk to her, I love my mom, but she’s not the easiest person to get off the phone and I’ve only got a couple of hours left of work to get something written besides this nonsense. Once I get home, well, I’ve still got to put my house back together and clean up after my daughter’s birthday party last night, that alone means no writing once home today. But my mom is flying down in two days, it could be important…dammit, I have to answer it.
And with all of an hour left before I go home I stare at the blinking curser again. But with such little time left, do I even bother trying to start something? It’s bad enough when I get started early, like ten or eleven, that by this time of day I’m scrambling to get my thoughts finished before I go home. Because when I’m on a roll I need to go with it. Even if it means deleting half of it later, I need to get those thoughts out. So is it worth kick starting myself just to have to stop abruptly in less than an hour?
(Grumbling) Damn, a customer. Rainy days usually keep them away…
I can’t forget, there’s three albums I want to download when I get home, well…first I’ll listen through them to make sure I like all the songs before I download the entire album. Though, they’re by artists that I do like, one’s I already have one, of not several, of their previous albums. Do I really have the time to pick and choose…fuck it…what’s the worst that happens, I waste ninety-nine cents? And Amazon usually has better prices when you buy the whole album then when you nit-pick.
The entire album it is!
For fuck’s sake Sue, focus.
This cold doesn’t help, my like…umpteenth of the year. Working with the public can really suck when you’ve got as bad of an immune system as me. I’d love to blame this block on the cold medicine (which I very easily could, it sends me for a loop. Who’d’ve thought with all the other shit I’ve done in my lifetime that a decongestant would be what fucks me up the best (no worries this was all BK, actually all BM for that matter (before kids and before man))). It makes it hard to concentrate, and makes me sleepy, though the coffee is helping to balance that out. Now there’s a trip, felling trippy-sleepy to jittery-awake, all in the span of five minutes. I hope this isn’t like heart impairing or anything…
But I can’t blame this on the medicine or my cold because I’ve been trying to spit this out since I finished the last Anya novel. Though, to be honest, this isn’t the next novel. It’s just a little blip, a sort of in between (sort of).
Damn, no more coffee (and yes I can make it last all day and no that’s not gross. I grew up in the north after all, after any given snow storm you could find my ass shoveling snow with my Dunkin Donuts iced coffee sitting neatly in its cup holder made of snow. I’m not a huge fan of the hot coffee really).
Ooo, which reminds me. The man cut me off from my Starbucks, told me it was a waste of money. But one of my regular customers (I love you Mrs. Kirchner!) gave me a Starbucks gift card for Christmas, yay! No it’s not my favorite, but the drive thru coffee/donut shop is fairly nonexistent here, it’s all fucking taco’s. Who eats taco’s for breakfast?
This really isn’t getting me anywhere…
So I guess it comes down to two choices. Do I continue to sit here staring at a blank word doc, hoping that lightning strikes (not literally, please, on a day like today maybe I shouldn’t be saying that), and not post anything for another day at least (most likely longer, it’s just not coming to me)? Or do I move on, begin another novel in my head that’s set in the vampire world, one that I already have the beginning for?
Damn, what do you know, it’s time to start my shift change crap.
It’s not that I’m a procrastinator, I’m a perfectionist…
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