Everything is moving forward. The Scouring zoomed past the eighteen thousand word point last night, more or less. I say that, because though I use the word “zoom”, it was more like a stumble over the line to get there. My focus was crap yesterday for some reason, and most of the day was spent adding a few hundred words here, another hundred there.
But as I’ve said before, you keep adding up those words over the course of a few hours, eventually you’ll get a couple of thousand written, which I did before heading off to bed. Just a shade over two thousand, mind you, but I still made it.
This was the first time I did a split screen and wrote on the top while watching the word count build up on the bottom while I had the part in Outline mode. And the fun part is, you do see the numbers for the Word Count move as you type, edit, and delete. For some reason I enjoyed writing this way last night; call me crazy, but then most do. I think it has more to do now with where I’m at, but where I’m going. And as the Status Column goes from “To Do” to “Work in Progress” to “First Draft”, I’ll feel a greater sense of accomplishment.
The going was slow because of a few distractions yesterday–who doesn’t have them, I know–but there’s also that feeling of pending disaster whenever I have to start working on pending disasters. Killing Time is coming to the Salem Institute of Greater Education and Learning, and I’m laying the ground work.
I’ve had this situation happen before: it’s like the shakes coming on after a long night of drinking and drying out the moment I have to get in there and start writing some disturbing stuff. I have three pretty clear death scenes in my head, and when I start thinking about putting those things into my computer–I don’t know. It’s not that I mind killing off my characters; I think it has most to do with how it’s going to read for other.
I had this same thing happen back when I was writing Couples Dance last year. I started getting the Butterfly Fear (that feeling you get in your tummy when it feels like there’s a million mad butterflies trying to break free) when it was time to write some of the most bizarre sex scenes–and if I’m saying “bizarre sex scene”, then you know it was strange.
The thing is, I powered through it, and wrote out the strangeness, and the world didn’t implode. Once more, my mind was playing tricks on me, which is something it totally enjoys doing, and which I should ignore more often.
There will be writing today. More than likely it’ll happen this afternoon, but I’ll get it in, and get it done, and by this time tomorrow I should have over twenty thousand words in the story bank.
Where I never have to worry about making a withdrawal.