I am two-thirds of the way through the rough draft of my superhero novel, and of course, this is when my muse takes a hiatus. The horrible thing is I know what happens next. I’ve seen the scene a hundred times. I just have to put it on the page. But for some reason the words are not coming out.
It’s not a matter of my characters being unwilling. No, they are more than ready to reach happily ever after. It’s a matter of me not being able to write crap. Well, the first draft is crap regardless, but I am focusing too much on making this pass well crafted from the get-go. I need to get it on the page and lay it all out. Then go back and layer, layer, layer. I know this is how I prefer to write. Why can’t I do it?
I’m blaming the rain. I cannot function when I am cold, and I am cold if it is under 60 degrees outside. Needless to say, I am cold often. All I want to do is hibernate under a big down comforter with a steaming mug of hot cocoa and watch The Vampire Diaries all day. Not a good plan. This week I can blame the Olympics. Damn you NBC for doing such a great job on characterizing the weather as the villain during the biathlon. Who knew cross country skiing could be so riveting?
So, how do I whip the muse back into action? Writing in long hand usually helps. I get distracted by the red and green squiggly lines in spellcheck. Hunting and pecking keys are also a rhythm breaker. Long car rides are also helpful. It’s not like you have any place else to go, so it’s an excellent location to compose.
And when all of that fails, you just got to kick its ass. Seriously. Put pen to paper, no matter how painful it is, and eventually the words will come. As Cherry Adair says “I give you permission to write crap.”
Now where’s my whip?