Today has been one of those days. Between idiots on the highway–including someone who nearly hit me even though I was hard on the horn to get their attention–and idiots at work, I’ve had distractions up the yang, and getting into the blogging grove has proved difficult at best.
There was also the issue what what to say. I had something to say this morning, but like my ba-lance, I lost it and having had time to find it. My life seems to go in these directions these days: distractions on the road, distractions on the job, distractions on the internet. And now I have to deal with road construction tonight–oh, goody.
I worked on the new chapter for Replacements last night, and the brain was dead: far deader than zombie Amy Pond. I was writing, I was getting the ideas out, I was making the scene–but it was coming so slowly. I’d do fifty words, then I couldn’t think, so I’d read a little. Then another fifty and it was time to look for music. Went like that for two and a half hours, and in the end I came close to my thousand words, but just like light speed, I didn’t make it that far. A gallant effort, but I had to sigh when it was over because I felt I’d let myself down.
And yet . . .
Maybe it was the complexity of the scene that thwarted me. Though my story is sort of science fiction with borderline erotic elements, it isn’t screaming sex. It’s all about the characters: one who becomes so obsessed with doing something that she literally takes over someone’s life, and another who wants her own relationship with the main character, and has pushed the relationship into a new direction. There is a lot happening between these two people, all of which is coming out in these new chapters, amounting to about three to four thousand words of character development.
In trying to get the information right, I’m having to think about what I need to have them do, and that means thinking about their actions. They aren’t looking up from the Scrivener file going, “No, I’m not wearing that!” or “Are you kidding? I’m not going to make her suck my toes!” No, it’s all in my head, and I’m working hard, though a haze of semi-exhaustion, to drag it out of my brain and kicking it out through the tips of my fingers.
As I’ve said, it’s a lot of work, because writing is work. If you want to do it right, you have to do it right. I spoke with a friend today, another writer, who said she’s going through a number of calculus calculations because there’s something she needs to do that she wants to do correctly. I know that eventually she’ll get it all right, but there’s another example of someone doing the work needed to do it the way that is best.
Maybe I shouldn’t be hard on myself. Maybe I’m doing the best I can with a head full of stuffing after getting up at five AM and spending two hours on the road to go from home to hole and back.
That doesn’t mean I won’t do the work.
Nor feel bad when I don’t do as well as I feel I should.