I'm tired of my well-begun yet no-end-in-sight WIP mocking me from the turtle-shaped memory stick. I don't know about you, but I'm beginning to think of myself as a poser instead of a writer. What does it matter that I produced once? Am I to live on those laurels for the rest of eternity?
Ten words a day is not enough reason to turn on the laptop. Five hundred words a day feels insurmountable at the moment when the pinnacle of my story is cloaked in storm clouds. But a blog post's worth of words? I can do that. I used to blog every day. Two or three paragraphs is worth the time if those paragraphs move the story forward. As a bonus, if I produce an epic fail, it's fairly easy to rewrite that kind of day's work.
I am a mountain climber hanging by a finger and a toe as I search for the next outcropping that will push me an inch higher. I can rappel down from the top. My hesitation comes from having no clear image of the climax. I have no clear image of the antagonist of this tale. I have no clear image of the cast. Makes the whole thing rather difficult to map in anything but the broadest of terms.
But a couple of paragraphs? Could be description. Could be a hint. Could be clean up, or a fight scene, or scintillating dialogue. Could be that inch I need to give me the space to breathe and study my next move instead of worrying over not starting yet.
That's my plan for January. I already started it. I'll keep you posted on the progress.
Happy Wednesday, dear readers. May your mountains be worth climbing.