Generally, I don’t believe in writer’s block. Because I’m self-critical, I look at it as just being lazy. By now, though, I ought to know myself well enough to understand that when the words aren’t flowing–when they feel like pulling teeth–it’s because I’m forcing the writing. I know how it feels to write with sheer joy. I know how it feels to love every nuance and every new plot twist.
Today, I had a terrible day on a personal level. It wasn’t what I wanted at all. I didn’t get a chance to do any writing, I’m exhausted, I’ve been attending to unexpected but necessary things, and all I wanted to do was come home to write. When I finally got home, did I write? No, not unless email counts.
As I was sitting here feeling exhausted, it was EPIPHANY TIME. Not only did I finally acknowledge that I was forcing the issue, I unlocked the key to making the book so much better than it already is.
Now I’m excited. Now I can set my alarm and get up in the morning eager to write. All it will take is a little bit of plotting and planning, and I’ll be good to go.