Someone turned the heat way up this year. I don't mind the heat so much, but the humidity is what kills. Today is one of those days where, when you walk outside, it feels like someone is throwing waterballoons at you. HOT water balloons that don't splash, they just trickle. I walked out of the grocery store this morning and my glasses fogged up. Isn't that only supposed to happen in winter?
These are the days where you don't mind staying inside and immersing yourself in another world, even if (in my current case) that's means the desert.
I'm still having a ball with my current work in progress, but I've re-discovered why I'm the "spit it out, clean it up later" type of writer. With my current story, I've been working slowly, making sure I get the details right the first time (or at least mostly right) when I have chunks of time to write. I'm still slapping down some of the chapters when my time is short in an effort to get them on paper, but the thing that stands out for me is the time I'm wasting.
Yesterday I took a big chunk of time. I went back through the last two chapters that had been slap-dashed onto paper and cleaned them up, then I went to my stopping point to continue on, knowing full well what I want to write, and I was stuck. This is what many people call writer's block: the inability to write. But I'm not blocked. I know what I want to say, but I can't seem to word it the way I want to. So I stare at my computer screen, filtering through all the words inside my head and nothing is translating itself through my fingers, to the keyboard, to the computer screen. THAT's frustrating.
Today, I'm taking a break. DH has volunteered to take me to a movie to escape the heat and I'm going! When I get back, I think it will be time to slap-dash chapters down. I will have another big chunk of time, so once I get started, I can then go back and clean up the mess later. It's how I work best.
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