The American Election threw me off my game for a couple of days. I still wrote everyday, but I didn't get around to blogging about it.
So much has happened in the last couple of days. First of all, my characters are talking back to me now, and my inner critic has finally reared his ugly mug.
No, it wasn't for all the excitement of Zomney apocolypse averted. Phew! Wecome back Obama!
I think it is because the fact that I am writing a novel is finally catching up with me. So the characters in my story started reminding me that we are 19,000 words into a year in the life and I've got 51 weeks left to cover. "Nobody wants to read this shit. Nobody cares about us." And so, they are right. Or rather, that's exactly what many seventeen year-old's believe. So, while they are doing great about being true to their nature and helping the narrative right along, my inner critic has started to dialog right along with them.
He keeps telling them to fight with me. He keeps telling them that this work is unimportant and that their lives have no meaning. He wants to kill them before they are finished being born.
I ignore him as much as I can, but every once in a while when I feel the characters are going to keep me busy writing 1667 words a day right through to January, he gets a few jabs in and I land flat on my ass.
Yesterday I stalled and today I have taken the entire day off. The critic has landed a blow and I need to take long walks in the park with the dog, and watch him punch holes in his new frisbie. Then I can splash around in the aromatherapy tub, light some candles, chant alms to "Ganesha" and meditate until my thoughts start to make some sort of sense to me once again.
The critic wants me to believe that this whole endeavor is stupid. "Taking an entire month off to write a novel is fool's play. There's real livelihood out there, and you are wasting your time."
To my inner critic, I say, "have your say, and pass the honey. If I get anywhere at all with this, I am going to tell everyone in the world all about how helpful you were while trying to pull my chair out from under me, and by purposefully hiding my ideas in the drawer with the elastics and corkscrew."
My sweetie has just informed me "you're not getting any," for having left her out at this point. Honestly, she is seeing me through this in such a big and magnificent way. I love you so much, and I wouldn't be doing any of this without your encouragement and pep talks.