I've been working on my new book for a while now. I got a bit sidetracked when the idea for DONG OF FRANKENSTEIN came out of left field and became my priority, but even after I finished that one, I'm still having difficulties with this other book.
Don't get me wrong. I love this book (so far). Some really amazing things happen in it. Unfortunately, it turns out that there are a lot of boring, yet necessary, scenes I have to write to connect everything, and that's been killing me. It got so bad that I wrote myself into a corner last week, and I've been barely doing any work on this fucker since. The most I got done was a hundred words last night, despite sitting in front of my computer for two hours. Yeah, that's pretty bad compared to my usual self-imposed 2K word requirement.
(I cheated a bit and pumped out a new Everyone's Got One piece, which I'm posting tomorrow. It didn't get me to 2K, but it made me feel better about myself. Plus last night's Goodnight, Fuckers? Not a bad day in all. But it wasn't the kind of writing I WANTED to get done.)
Last night I went out for a walk. Walks are great for finally knocking things loose in my head. Some of my best breakthroughs come during these walks, except they hadn't been helping me of late. However, last night's helped a great deal. I finally know how I'm going to end this thing, and more importantly, I know all the steps I need to go through to get there.
I rushed home and wrote it all down, and I'm writing the final scenes now. To be honest, things were so bad with this book I thought I might scrap it and move on. (Which would suck because it would be the second book in a row.) Now, I feel excited about writing it again. I even feel energized. I got 2K+ words out of my head tonight, and it was done pretty quickly. If you take out the research I did tonight, I probably could have gotten it done in 45 minutes. That's fucking awesome.
It's moments like these when I remember why I got into this business. It wasn't for the money (although having some would be nice). It wasn't for the fame (although having fame would lead to more sales, which leads to more money, which would be nice). It wasn't even for the pathological need to write (although I would do it anyway, business or no). It's really for that rush when things finally start connecting. When the pieces start forming a whole. When you know you're on fire, and you want to burn even more.
I think I'll be done with the first draft in a week. I wrote the last boring, yet necessary, scene tonight. From here on out, it's nothing but two-fisted, epic action. Things are finally starting to look up.