Since then, I've been slogging along, trickling out words and working on other stories when the word flow gets so frustrating I want to rip the word machine from my head.
Then a light bulb went off in my head. I've been telling myself that this novel better be good. In fact, it needs to be better than good. So instead of letting the words come as they will, I've been fighting to make everything perfect. Nothing like a little internal pressure to send the happy place on its merry way. A few days ago, though, I let the words reign. I tossed out the idea of perfection. I dug way deep into the word machine and turned the faucet on full blast. Lo and behold, the words flowed and I found my happy place with this novel again.
I don't normally post excerpts of work in progress, but I thought I'd share this snippet. It made me smile when I wrote it. Okay, scratch that. It made me grin like a madcap fool. This is first draft stuff, okay? It's not perfect and out of context, it might leave you scratching your head, but it is what it is.
The water shut off and a few minutes later, Karen emerged from the adjoining bathroom draped in a towel, a puff of lavender scented steam drifting out behind her. A water goddess materializing from her temple of sea spray. All she needed was a gossamer gown and a golden circlet on her head.
He watched through heavy-lidded eyes as she tiptoed across the room to her dresser. The curling ends of her hair left a trail of water droplets in her wake. He caught sight of a grey spot on her shoulder. A goddess, maybe, but a diseased goddess, cursed by a wrathful god named NotReal, and NotReal was a real son of a bitch. In fact, the Great and Powerful NotReal was on a mission to make Mark’s life as fucked up as possible. And why? For sport, of course. Old NotReal didn’t have much else to do and a bored god was a dangerous god.
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5 comments:
I know exactly what you mean. I found my happy place just a couple of days ago, and my latest short story is ripping along better than anything has in a good long while.
I think you explain it perfectly, too; the block really does feed on our self-doubt and the undue pressure we put on ourselves to make everything just so.
Once you stop worrying about each brush stroke, you free yourself up to write like a madman or madwoman. Madperson?
Also, I really dig the excerpt! Your first draft looks a lot better than my second draft, so there's always that. haha
Joe, self-doubt can be a great and terrible beast. Sometimes it's a fight to shove the monster back under the bed when it gets the upper hand, but well worth it in the end. I'm glad you enjoyed the excerpt and best of luck with your short story!
"A bored God is a dangerous God." Love that line. You did very well in your little excerpt. Good work, unclogging the words and letting them flow. Sometimes it can get that way. I had the same problem starting my newest book, but I followed your advice and wrote a whole new beginning. It just flowed. So thanks for explaining how you did it.
Oh, Damien, do I know what you mean about the words coming out at a trickle! I had the flu or something for a couple of weeks (yes, two weeks)and I am having a hell of a time getting back into my latest novel! Thanks for the inspirational post! Glad you found your way back to the tap. :)
Draven, thank you so much for your comment. I'm glad your words are flowing, too.
Shannon, that flu sounds horrible! I'm glad you're feeling better. I think if you force yourself to write every day, even if it's just a handful of words, they'll start flowing again. Good luck and hugs to you!
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