I wrote for six and a half hours yesterday. On ONE scene in chapter six. I wrote so hard I got mad. I got up from my desk at 5:15 to take a shower and spun around and walked right out of the bathroom and sat back down, I could not do anything until the damn scene was concluded.
By the time I collapsed into my seat at dinner I felt like a border collie that had been herding sheep all day. Exhausted from corralling all these wayward bleating misshapen things, ready to flop onto the floor panting and lie there for hours, also satisfied that I had at last fully done the work I feel wired to do.
A quote Wallace Stegner kept me going: Hard writing makes easy reading.
God let's hope.
By the time I collapsed into my seat at dinner I felt like a border collie that had been herding sheep all day. Exhausted from corralling all these wayward bleating misshapen things, ready to flop onto the floor panting and lie there for hours, also satisfied that I had at last fully done the work I feel wired to do.
A quote Wallace Stegner kept me going: Hard writing makes easy reading.
God let's hope.
By the end of the day, put me in a bucket, I'm done.
But that's still hours away. Half the chapter-six sheep are still out wandering, and the fence keeps moving. Back to work.
1 comment:
keep writing about yr process! i love it! way to do it.
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