I’ve been procrastinating all day. It’s not that I don’t want to write, it’s just that I’m starting a new scene and it’s another blank page and I’m having a total freak out about that. I get this wave of anxiety, heart racing, breath shallow, hands shaking, sick to my stomach kind of panic attack. I don’t understand it. I’m a great writer, but when I face that blank page, I’m terrified.
Unfortunately, the NaNo boards have lost their momentum now so many of the Perth :: South people I was hanging out with have finished their 50,000 and validated, including me. That, added to my shift of energy toward some Web design and maintence issues means I’ve sort of lost that drive of enthusiasm that has been driving me through the month.
I just need to get these two scenes written and then the third act is done. Then act four is only fifteen scenes. I’m so close to the end. Then again, this close to the end means I’m facing that 75% wall. Have you heard about that wall? You go SMACK straight into the damn thing. The only way to get past it is to climb it, brick by brick, with your bare hands and feet.
Have you had any success getting past it?
Screw it. I’m going to keep procrastinating. I just moved the scene I need to write up to the middle of chapter 22 and hopefully a single scene in chapter twenty-three will be enough to flesh out a good sized chapter. If not, then I guess I could move Lucas’ scene back down again.
I really shouldn’t give in to this anxiety.
You know you’re having a bad writer day when you sit down to work on a very, very short story for writers’ group and what you end up with is this:
“There ain’t nothing wrong with being a galaxy rancher, but I’ve been to nine planets in twelve years and it’s starting to show.”
Parker really did look run down, Natasha decided. So she shot his brains out.
Um, yeah, so. I’ve decided NOT to work on Flight of Torque tonight. I think I need a break, some mindless T.V., and an early night.
PS. I won’t be reading that story at writer’s group tomorrow.