So. Yesterday, I wrote my blog post, went upstairs, stood in front of the writing computer, all ready to work…
…And nothing. Nada.
I tried all my usual tricks. Even sat down to consider that maybe I was in the wrong scene, that I was writing the wrong stuff, that I didn’t like what I was doing.
Nope. Liked the book, liked the scene. Just was absolutely not interested in putting words down. Maybe got 200.
Walked over to the main house to whine at my husband about this when it turned out that he was in the exact same boat. He had managed more words but he was kind of done.
(Yes, for those of you who know my husband. He couldn’t write yesterday. Sometimes even he has difficulty.)
So we walked down the driveway and hopped in the truck, around 10 AM. Went into South Center. We went to a used bookstore and went out to lunch and did some shopping. Didn’t get back home until 4ish.
Tried driving the truck up the driveway. Ended up digging it out twice. It just needs to melt more before we can use the driveway regularly.
While at the used bookstore, I picked up a coffee table book called, “Eat Ink.” It’s pretty and glossy, with pictures and stories of chefs and their tattoos. It also has recipes. I think I’d actually make one of them, but that wasn’t why I bought the book.
When we got back, I sat and read through it and just relaxed some more. I needed that eye/mind candy.
Finally was able to do some of the mystery workshop reading, as well as my anthology reading. But that was about it. All that I did yesterday. I needed the day off.
This morning when I woke up, I laid in bed and thought about the novel and I’m pretty excited about this next scene. I think I’ll be able to go write now, that I’ve taken enough time off. Wish me luck…