I am sitting sipping on a cup of hot coffee and munching on the dwindling supply of leftover peanut butter fudge from Christmas. It's still delicious. Later, I intend to write. As long as I am in the zone and don't have a lot of schoolwork to do, I'm going to write. And write some more. There will come a time -- I will predict somewhere around the beginning of February when the walls will once again close in, stifling my creativity. I have about 10,000 words to go. Today I started re-reading the first draft and fixing some minor issues. It's about to blow up in my character's face -- in the proverbial tree so to speak with people loading up on rocks.
My character's world is going to crumble and take him down too.
I am trying very hard to write a realistic YA novel, and sometimes it gets to me even as I write it. I am sure other writers have had difficulty writing their novels because the topic is so intense. Mental illness is about as tense as it can get, especially when it strikes a kid.
I don't have any interesting new happening in my life. Classes start up again for MaC next week. I only have one class this semester. With 13 students last I checked, it has already made. Comp 2. Why do I do it to myself.
I need to read another good book.
My character's world is going to crumble and take him down too.
I am trying very hard to write a realistic YA novel, and sometimes it gets to me even as I write it. I am sure other writers have had difficulty writing their novels because the topic is so intense. Mental illness is about as tense as it can get, especially when it strikes a kid.
I don't have any interesting new happening in my life. Classes start up again for MaC next week. I only have one class this semester. With 13 students last I checked, it has already made. Comp 2. Why do I do it to myself.
I need to read another good book.
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