When the words don’t come

This weekend was another of those hectic ones. We had several appointments on both days. Some of those happened with me being in a different place than where my kids needed to be. As I am the organizer in this house, I had to make sure that I got everyone sorted into the right places with the right accessories (snack, money, water, phone numbers, you name it) before I could concentrate on anything else. It was the basic putting the horse before the cart thing. And as you know, if you have ever supervised kids, they usually go on merrily playing Ben Hur with all the carts they can find, while the horses still stand stoically  in the stables.
So yesterday afternoon, after we had all our appointments taken care of, it was time for me to sit down and write. And. The. Words. Would. Just. Not. Come. I was still in organizing mode. I had a lot of other things to do in the house. Because when you buy your kid new clothes, you also need to wash them right away, because kiddo wants to wear them. And also we better get the rooms cleaned up before the next week starts and homework needs to be done. I was also scatterbrained while on the computer. I went on twitter and tumblr, the nano site and youtube. I did everything but write. The few times that I actually went into my document I yielded abysmal word counts. I wrote and checked. I was a measly 200 words further. I usually write around 400 to 500 words at least in one bout. Yesterday it went so slow that I felt like wading through a bog, being pulled back at every point. It wasn’t pretty. Not by a long shot. I could have just said that this was not my day and stopped. If this weren’t NaNoWriMo time, I might have done that. But alas, it is and I do have a stubborn streak. So I went from word to word, from scene to scene and description to description until I finally hit some good dialog.
(I have the good fortune that I know my characters very well, so I knew what their reactions would be if I raised the stakes and made them face some pretty widespread destruction.) I did make the required word count. It took at least three times as long as usual and it was hard work, but by golly, I did it.
Today I am at the point where I am proud of slogging through yesterday and also where I have a good starting point to really get the story moving forward. I do hope that with these things in place the words will come easier this time around.

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About scratchingcat

Writer, mother, friend.
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One Response to When the words don’t come

  1. I do know the feeling, Ute. Oh. Boy. I. Really. Do. You do have all the hectic family life I sometimes wish I’d have but then I think to myself, my alone time is also required and by alone time, I actually mean time to write, which is something I do have issues with when I don’t feel in the mood. I haven’t written anything in a very long time, which is why I had issues to get back into it. I am still reading your book, but like almost everything lately, I had to put it on hold, because I don’t want to rip anyone off, when I am writing, I want to come up with my own ideas. So please forgive me, when it takes me like ages to actually give you, your well deserved feedback on what you have written.

    Just today, I woke up feeling heartbroken because of some personal stuff, that’s going on or not going on in my life right now and ended up writing a short story (I admire everyone who actually does do NANOWRIMO, I kind of dread it, since it does have a deadline and with the uncertainties in my life right now, it would have added some more stress to all the stress I have to deal with at the moment.)
    Anyways, there are days when it flows and then there are those, when you have to force yourself to pull through and I applaud you for pulling through!

    And here is my short story “Faster!”:
    It was only a few minutes before midnight and she kept running, her heart pumped faster than ever before, the rain, like little pebbles, hurt her face and turned into steam once it hit her skin, cause her body kept heating up with every step she took. She was in panic, in fear to arrive too late, too much was at stake.

    Elsewhere in the city, a table, occupied by two men, in a smoke filled room. One of them in tears. The other grinning, knowing all too well, he would succeed as always.
    “So, when I do this, it all will go away?” – “Yes!”, the grinner replied. “You just have to sign here, here, and here.”

    While running, she remembered what she had yelled at him and cursed herself for doing so, it wasn’t her intention, she was just enraged, felt misunderstood as so many times before. She only wanted him to pay attention, to make him feel what she felt, so he would understand her side of things. She cursed her brain chemistry for playing tricks on her and everyone for that matter who ever felt like a slave to their emotions. “I have to stop thinking and run faster, faster, I have to stop him!”, she yelled at herself.

    “Are you ready?”, the grinner asked. “My offer only stands till midnight and as you can see, there isn’t that much time left, furthermore I have other business to attend to. I only agreed to this late night session, because I like you, kid. We have all been there.”
    The other just nodded and replied, “I am, I am ready. Let’s get it over with.” and he began to sign at the designated areas.

    She ran down an alleyway, time appeared to slow down around her, while her speed accelerated and she crushed a rat with her left foot, which tried to get out of her way but wasn’t fast enough. Its blood sprayed everywhere, like a bursting balloon filled with red paint. She didn’t notice the blood’s warmth on her skin, her body felt like it was burning from the inside out, but she kept increasing her speed and her muscles grew into grotesque proportions. She was too far gone to feel the pain, her last clear thought before the transformation was complete, “Faster!”.
    Her jacket burst open, revealed gigantic wings and, with one flap, pushed herself off of the ground, elevating higher with ever increasing speed. Her scream, like the roar of a lioness, alarming every living thing on the ground.

    The creature smashed through the northern brick wall of the smoke filled room, letting in fresh air and rain, accompanied by lightning and the sound of thunder from a far. It came closer to the table, which had been occupied by two men, just a few minutes ago. Only one of the two was still sitting in his chair. The other, gone, without a trace, but his distinctive smell, it knew all to well from many years ago. Its heart kept beating and a flicker of hope lit up in its eyes. It moved around the table and roared once again, this time it was a roar of despair. The body on the chair revealed its secret by releasing steam into the cold night air from a hole in its chest and the heart placed in its lap.

    And then another lightning strike lit up the room and revealed a sadistic letter, written in blood onto the southern wall: “Never give all your heart, honey!”

    A note fell out of the creatures dangling leftovers what used to be its jacket: “You said I am heartless and I am going to show you that I am not. I am going to meet up with your dad, to seal the deal. I love you. ♥” . – Dome Woo

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