Again, I’ve missed writing a post during the weekend. Admittedly, some of the reason is due to my reluctance to write the rest of It Was My Black Cloud. Still, there is another reason; I’m at a place in my writing that’s become troublesome. It’s sticky and gooey. It’s reminds me of picking up a peanut butter and jelly sandwich while standing out in the hot summer sun. The creamy gunk seeps out from beyond the bread adhering to anything it touches. The more you try to be clean and neat, the worse it gets.
My writing project is trying to stall on me, but I’m not at any point where I’m willing to let that happen. I’m just at that place in the story where the main character is beginning the upward spiral of the main conflict.
I find myself forgetting little details that I’ve already written. I’m having to go back to find them to refresh my memory, things like: what town is that building is in, the name of the daughter of the best friend, and if it’s one day or two days after what happened last. I do have an outline, although it isn’t the typical kind. I’m outlining as I write because I have short-term memory loss. It’s making it easier to find those specifics I’ve untimely repressed.
The style I’ve chosen for my first draft is bugging me. I know this is ridiculous. What difference should it make? It’s my first draft and there will be many more after it. I know I should be concentration on getting my story down. Somehow I need to let go of this notion of absolutely everything has to be perfect. There will be a time when this line of thinking is appropriate, but that’s far down the road from where I am now.
Because my story is a fiction about real life, I’ve been trying my best to keep it believable. This includes the number of characters. Usually there is more than three people in a person’s life, right? At least, this is what I’m assuming. So far I have thirteen characters, and I’ve labeled nine of them as being major ones. Any of them who have a direct link to the plot, no matter how small, are ones I’ve marked as important. Is this the way it’s done? I haven’t a clue, although I have a funny feeling this number is going to shrink some during the second draft.
One of my reasons for not posting isn’t something I consider my fault. In order for me to feel comfortable writing, I need to be alone. It must be quiet. This last week has been a big fog horn blasting. My husband has been home at hours when I’d normally be writing while he’s at work. He is not a quiet man, and he’s one of those who needs someone to listen to him. The poor man has issues with self-esteem. In addition to the spouse noise, the phone has been ringing more often– even when I’m alone–driving me loony. I know, turn off the ringer and let the answering machine pick it up. Sorry, but I start feeling too guilty or start worrying about if it’s an emergency I’m missing.
I’ve become a beta reader for an author friend. This has taken some time away from writing. I’ve taken it on because I’m learning as I read her stories. Her stories, as they come to me through email, have numerous spelling and grammar errors, but that isn’t the point of my job as a reader for her. I read to examine the flow, the subject, and the interest in her stories. I’m learning how the word sentences differently, different ways to introduce characters that I hadn’t thought of doing, plus other little tricks that may make my own story more enjoyable to read. I consider this an acceptable reason to postpone writing, at least in small doses.
My hurdles seem to have multiplied. I’m a stubborn soul so I’ll persevere. It’s a good thing I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.