Skip to main content

February Focus: Day 7

I wish I could be writing my first draft a little more. I’m eking out the bare minimum each day, making very little progress in plot progression. I’m in a weird spot where my characters are just, well, into each other. It feels like I haven’t even justified this relationship, really. Perhaps I did when I first began, but that was back in November, a veritable lifetime ago that I have no time to revisit. “They just like each other,” I keep saying, “It’s simply attraction. What else is it at first?” But that’s the least of my worries when it comes to this tale I’m weaving and the ultimate narrative I wish to drive home.

I can tell I’m stalling this story. I don’t exactly know where to go with it. The plot is on the way, but I can tell right now I’m putting words down just to put them down. I wait until far too late in the night to even begin writing when I should be writing it all day. And then on top of all the other stuff I’m doing, it’s like I don’t give it the time it deserves. So my characters are just driving along, sitting next to one another in the bucket seat with no reason at all as to why’re even there.

All they’re doing right now is having one “50 Shades” moment after the other. It’s all I seem to want to write about, even if I’m not being graphic and am just largely implying. It’s all I feel like they should be doing at the moment. Maybe it’ll make sense later. Maybe not. There’s a big twist I have in mind that will render all these actions even more scandalous, but I have no idea how to reveal it. I keep thinking the more I write, the more I’ll figure it out, even if it makes me look like a gigantic pervert in the interim. I’m not writing with a young audience in mind, so this is totally a road I’m willing to go down.

Now, let’s be clear, this isn’t the only thing they’ve been doing. There’s a lot of other stuff going on here. A lot of dystopian takeover and a woman torn between her loyalty to work and the people. But all this sensual stuff in the forefront right now feels important, just as it would be in my personal life. Still, it’s a distraction in its own way, is it not? Are there not better things I could be using my talents on? And if I stopped procrastinating so hard, couldn’t I find a route that doesn’t cause me to skid off into the gutter?

Perhaps I should stop questioning my own process and just go with it. Blast some music, put all the windows down, and speed down the straightaway, with my silly, sensual considerations in tow. If this is where I’m at, then this is where I’ll be. I’ve got something here. You’ll know I’ve broken out of the procrastination slump once you see me doing more than the bare minimum here. At least that’s what I hope. I’ve got three weeks left to try, and a lifetime of love to look forward to. I’m willing to go pedal to the metal on that if you are.

Swears: None. Catching myself more and more.

First Draft Word Count: 54,818
566 words written today.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: