After a week away from writing, I am coming back to the story I failed to complete in time for workshop.
The goal for today is 500 words. Just enough to get me back in. I’m hoping that my batteries have recharged. Or the story’s batteries.
Or maybe a better metaphor to use would be bread and yeast and the rising and punching down. Stuff happens, I write, it gets bigger, and then collapses in on itself because it isn’t right yet, not the right texture, not the right chemical reactions going on between dough and the little critters that make it rise.
Or a stew that’s been simmering, and different things float to the top while it bubbles, and now and then I add something else (or take something out), and hopefully it’s thickening up.
I feel hopeful. I foresee this draft being too long, perhaps because there’s too much stuff in it, and perhaps that’s what’s making it so hard to manage. But what can you do except write the thing?
And now this has turned into procrastination, so I will return to my 163 morning-words and make them multiply.