For two days now I have been writing an average of 315 words a day.
And this is for……
…my novel. A project I’ve been struggling with for a couple of years now. Who the heck are these characters? Do I need these many characters? Am I being honest? So many questions just kept piling on me. I didn’t know what to do, so I just kept writing little notes here and there. What one wore one day. What another said this in this particular situation. Even silly small notes like, “When he farts, he looks out the window.”
Anyways, something happened this past weekend; I pulled out my laptop and off my fingers began to fly off and I typed things that I haven’t explored in a while.
Things deep within me that I had forgotten, things I put aside, things that used to mean something dramatic in my early twenties— and now, almost ten years later, have layers of meaning; meaning behind gender, identity, and so much much more — like, MUCHO MAS.
Maybe being lost for a little bit is okay.
I have way more work to do, more editing, more struggling — but I am just happy to report that so far, my 315 words a day feel pretty fracking awesome. I am getting back to this true place that is absolutely uncomfortable. And I think that’s a good sign.
I wish you, writer out there, to have a great writing session yourself. And if you’re hitting your head against the wall, just remember — keep writing. Those silly notes, they’ll come in handy someday.