I'm sure a lot of writers feel like total head cases sometimes, but right now, I'm definitely acting like an idiot.
I could do it. I can totally finish my first draft by my goal date of April 30th. If I'm a few pages shy, it would be sooooo close.
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| the wall |
I can taste the end of my story.
I know where I'm going. I know what happens. I know who my characters are on the last page.
But the words. I just keep allowing myself to be distracted by things that don't matter, and I'm not writing words.
I'm here, for example, writing on this blog that a dozen people read, instead of writing WORDS.
I think part of me is afraid of what finishing the first draft means...
I'm a w**ter. You know the word. Not waiter...
I don't even want to type it.
And here today, I spouted a big, brave, no-fear comment on Simon's great post, and read a great article by Annie about fear, and my darling heather just posted about JUST WRITING and here I am... I'm just... sputtering.
I don't want to have hit a wall. So, I suppose that means I need to sign off here.
And go get to writing.













