Word Count: 5069
Mood: Who cares? I’m writing
Music: Something old, borrowed and blue: Rokysopp, Cat Power and Divine Comedy
It took me a while to warm up yesterday and hours to churn out a few thousand words. I tried to lose myself in the story, but my critical writer was on full alert. Today was much better. Words actually flowed. Good words too. Not deep or significant, or particularly insightful passages, but decent. Despite the plentiful words, I still have no sense of where it is going. I know my lack of planning will come back to bite me, but I just want to have a few days to enjoy the telling, instead of worrying about everything else. As a precaution, I am writing loaded paragraphs I hope can be unpacked like little matryoshka dolls for later. The story so far reads cohesively, if a little chunky. I’d almost forgotten how much fun it was to run with scissors. When I hit the mushy middle and my creativity starts to dry up, i’ll probably want to hit my head against the keyboard, but like Scarlet (O’hara not Johannson) I’ll worry about that another day.