The Three Hundred and Ninetieth Post: The One Where I Bang My Head on the Desk…

What’s the hardest part about writing for me? It’s admitting that I’m not going to be very productive for a session and walking away from the keyboard. I get obsessive when I have a goal in front of me. Right now, that goal is to write a haunted house story. Also right now, I put in 68 words in the morning. My writing goal is 750.

My brain is squabbling like a couple of three-year-olds over a stuffed bear.

Half of my brain is screaming at me to work. In the most math-ly sort of way it can work, it’s telling me that 68 is far, far, far less than 750 and that it won’t do. I need to get over this, quick screwing around, and get to work.

The other half is saying that you can’t get blood out of a stone. As much as I stare at the screen – those 68 words are going to be the most I am getting today because I haven’t really plotted out the rest of this chapter. If anything needs to get done, I need to figure out what’s next and write that.

You can see my problem.

I need to follow my wife’s advice and not let it bother me.

It’s bothering me.

It always bothers me. I’m a writer. I should be writing now, rather than staring at the last sentence I wrote a few minutes ago.

I’ll bet King never had to deal with this.

Sorry this isn’t the rampant positivity and humor I try to exude with each post, but it’s really bugging me today and I needed to vent.

I think I’m going to end this here and try to put all of this out of my mind and let myself turn this little box over in my mind.

What’s the worse that can happen?