Going After Inspiration With a Club--The Kind You Hit People With, Not an Exclusive Group of People

So I was planning on updating this shiny new blog once a week, but then I missed a week. And then my dad had a minor heart attack and major bypass surgery, and so updating went way, way down on my list of priorities. The day before that happened, I had written some on my novel and was confident that I could finish it in the next few days. Then hospital visits and taking care of the pets while everyone was gone took precedent.

I didn't write for about 12 days. A couple of days ago, I sat down with my netbook, opened my document, read the last few paragraphs, and then . . . stared at the screen for, like, three hours (well, between games of Bejeweled Blitz on Facebook). I had been going in a certain direction when I left off--one character was saying that another character was a distraction from something big that was happening. But what? I have no idea. I didn't take any notes because I planned on going back to it the very next day.

So I sat, and I stared, and I played a jillion games of Bejeweled Blitz and solitaire and mah-jongg. And nothing happened. I didn't spontaneously remember what I was thinking when I stopped writing. That rarely happens, at least to me. That quote about not waiting for inspiration is true--I don't get inspired staring at a blank page. I start writing, even if it's crap, even if I have no idea what I'm doing and I'm leaving a plot hole that will have to be fixed later. And at some point, it gets less crappy. Maybe it gets exciting, not always right then, but in a day or two, after I've warmed up. Just the act of typing words, of forcing myself to work even when I'm totally clueless--

Ah, I was going to say something brilliant there, but I forgot what. Anyway, I can't wait to be inspired because I'd wait forever. I have to start in order for inspiration to show up. She's like a really crabby supervisor who totally surprises you by giving you a Christmas present or something.

I think my lack of inspiration is apparent in that super-lame metaphor.

So tomorrow sometime, I'm going to sit down with my netbook again and get all comfy with my cup of tea, and start writing. It's going to suck. I'll be writing a lot of stuff that will have to be deleted or rewritten later. But it's going to move me forward, and then I'll write "THE END," and have a celebratory Diet Coke. And then the next day, I'll write "Chapter One" on something new*.

*Something new which I am super, super, ridiculously excited about and will talk about a little in my next post. Super excited!