It was easy to start. I had some ideas. I made some time in my mornings to sit down and type. And the words flowed. Then I got stuck but I sat at my desk still. A few words would show up for me to type. Then more words came.
And then at one point, I stopped sitting down. Life got the better of me. My time got spent doing things I love. Until I remembered - this book is my thing this year. This I need to finish.
I had to go back and read what I wrote again. I printed all the pages and put them in a notebook. I sat down with a pencil and started to read.
Oh what a painful thing that is. To see how truly awful some of it was. All those edits, the page torn apart by grey lead lines and letters. But then there were glimpses of what it could be. And so I keep writing. I am committed to finishing.
My characters have surprised along the way. One guy keeps showing up. One has faded away.
The key scene that started the writing may actually not work in this book. May have to save it for another one (she writes hopefully).
And I have learned more about myself and my relationships along the way.
I recently asked my husband for help. Actually I sent him this text:
When we were dating how would you have felt if I told you I had danced with a guy while out with friends?His responses, we had quite the exchange, were interesting and forced me to think through more issues than I expected.
And so I will write. I will say no to things I love to make time for this, which I also love. But just in case I forget to stay focused, I am going to post the first scene from my book on Monday. I have posted a few snippets here and here. And maybe I will post a few more along the way.
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