One of the most gruelling aspects of writing is getting back into the swing of writing a story after having put it down for an extended period of time. Currently, I am writing the third instalment in an urban science fiction novel with a writing friend and I've been procrastinating writing my chapter because my interest has waned.
Don't get me wrong, the book is amazing. But the rapid fire way in which we used to write has fallen to the wayside. Sometimes we are waiting weeks for the other to finish a chapter. This is when it gets hard. It staunches the creative flow and our excitement dwindles. I have, literally, been sitting on my chapter for a month. In my defence, my co-writer did go to Disney World. How fair is that?
Not fair at all. I mean, I really want to see Harry Potter World.
Still, I dropped the ball. I have been looking at the email in my inbox and feeling guilty. It's all on me this time. Disney World be damned.
The funny part about this whole fiasco is how fast the first two books in the series were done. We are talking a matter of weeks and they were finished. Why is this one like pulling teeth, or whatever other cliche you feel like using? I don't know if it's because this is the final book in the series, or our lives are falling apart, or I'm just not on the computer as much, but it's been so hard writing this book.
Even harder getting back into writing it after putting it aside for awhile. Even rereading it doesn't always help. So, I force myself to write. And it is painful. To read. To execute. To write. Sometimes I wonder if it's so tedious because it isn't right. Like, maybe the direction we are going is all wrong. I certainly hope not.
All I can tell you is that I am pushing forward until I am back in the swing of things and things are swinging freely.
Clearly I am tired and I should be going to bed. And meditate, of course.