When I get on a roll and writing seems to pour out of me, I think, ah yes, I can do this. I can easily write my 2,000 words a day. Then something happens and I feel like I will never write again.
There is a solution. Or several. I know. I’ve had this happen to me for years and always looked for suggestions to get past so-called Writer’s Block. Usually it’s a matter of not knowing what to write. I still have a couple of people I do some writing for and I rarely have writer’s block there. They tell me what they want and I write it.
Lately, I’ve been trying to think past the usual things and into deeper levels of my mind. Apparently, I can write if I need to finish something for other people. Why do I avoid my own writing?
A Lightbulb Moment: No Plan!
Part of my problem was that I had no plan. Not even a part of a plan. Other than I wanted to write something medieval. I had a character’s name: Alys. And then I discovered her situation.
But I did not know what would happen to her or if my story would be a romance or not. No plan.
I’m not the kind of person who writes my the seat of my pants, a pantser. I need a plan for everything. My computer is plastered with sticky notes.
I can’t even go to the grocery store without a list. I decided to give myself the weekend to get a plan in place. Hah! I ended up reading nonstop. I had no energy to do anything so I plopped into a chair and read and read and read.
I still don’t know what is going to happen to Alys.
Revisiting the Past
I tried writing novels 20 years ago and 30 years ago and I managed to rescue some of the old attempts and stash them away in my archives. I dragged them out and took a look at them this morning. Wow. What a mess.
I must have been trying to be literary. Or something. Meandering unedited drivel. Flabby characters with unformed motivations. Even the books I did write were light on the characters personalities and motivations. I’m having a very blah writing period and I feel like I should do something, anything, to get myself motivated to stop wasting time.
Wasting time. That is the crux of the matter right there. I think that I am wasting time. This was my desktop — it used to motivate me — I could hear the sound of the water lapping even when I just looked at it.
When I look at these beginnings of stories I used to write, I had no idea that I was wasting time. I thought that some sort of brilliance would strike me during the process of writing and make the stories interesting. I guess that was what was happening.
I’m going to post this and then come up with a plan to get motivated again.
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