Some days, you struggle and struggle and struggle to find the right words. You wonder why you chose such a profession. You spend some time researching other potential professions. Every idea, every thought, every word you manage to eke out feels ridiculous and wrong.
Some days you pull forth each word with great effort, occasionally stumbling through a paragraph in a rush of words only to hit another wall just like before, again. You can glimpse the reason you do all this during those stumbles, just ahead and always, always out of reach.
And some days, the right song comes on while you’re driving down the road and story plots and ideas and pieces start to click, click, click together in your head and the next thing you know, you’re sitting in a coffee shop drinking apricot tea and you’ve just written 1k of backstory for a character you didn’t think needed much backstory but now all these other parts make sense and you can feel the story growing, expanding, solidifying into something real.
The pieces have turned and moved and shifted and now the wall you were standing in front of has a door and you can’t wait to find out what lies beyond. And it’s exhilarating and it’s beautiful and it’s painful
And you remember: this is why you write.
Here’s current progress on Book Three, working title The Unconquered City, the story of an assassin turned monster hunter who’s really sick of people threatening her city. Now with more! awkward conversations, wholesale confrontations, and… snow?
Project: Book Three, Draft 0.5
Current word count: 33455 / 80000 words. 42% of the way there
Mountains, high: One
Valleys, low: Zero
Rivers, wide: Zero
Times I’ve Listened to That One Song On Repeat: 57