I've been having up and down days. What is going on? Some days I attack my book--no, wait, fondle-- and other days, I don't want to touch it at all.
It's all based on fear, you know. That great, terrible, blinding emotion that chases us all down. Some days, I'm faster and others, well, it crawla up my back and traces its claws along my collar bone. Too close; a little too close. This morning was one of those days. I was afraid of the next scene. Not the scene, actually, but of not being able to write it well.
Which, frankly, is ridiculous. I mean, what, I can't put some words together? Someone asked Steven King how he writes and he responded, "One word at a time," or something like that. It's all a writer's got to do. They don't even have to be good (not in the first draft, or even the second).
So this morning, when fear was digging its claws into my scalp, I turned and faced it.
(Ohh, I can write fiction! You see, the truth of the matter is that I started writing, got scared, and went to something else...like working on a project for my soon-to-open Etsy store.)
And the other side....
But now the bag is at a good pausing point and I really need to get to work.
You do too, don't you? After all, procrastination is the thief of time. (Someone else, somewhere else, said that once.)