Okay, this also happens with discouraging frequency. I'm at the "start the new book " stage. My deadline seems, oh, months away. I have plenty of time. I need to rest, refill the well, restore my creativity...
Ah, who am I kidding? I'm messing around doing anything but writing because...(and I'm sure this is no newsflash to other writers), writing is hard. If it were easy, anybody who said, "I'd love to write a book someday" would, you know, write one. For me, the first draft is the most difficult part, so it's oh, so very tempting to delay.
Not that I don't need to take a break. Oh, baby, I do -- and I found that out the wrong way, by working myself too hard for too long, until the well, she was empty. I was stressed out, drained, miserable. And if starting a first draft is difficult to begin with, starting one under those conditions? Is a nightmare.
But then, also as always, comes the moment like the squeal of tires on rubber, and I realize that while yes, I have months before the book is due, that deadline is a lot closer than it appears in the mirror. YIKES!
So today, it's to work with me! NO EXCUSES!
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