One of my big writing “breakthroughs” six weeks ago or so was remembering “the flow.” The best way I can describe my writing, when it’s good is that it’s like stepping into a river and just floating. It already has its own current and direction, and I can paddle if I really want to, but only so much…really the best way to get somewhere with it is to just relax and let it take over. An overextended metaphor, perhaps 😛 But it does accurately describe how it feels with the feelings are good.
I’ve found the flow on this novel. I just stepped into the fucking river and floating for a while. It was glorious. I have my music on, my characters are with me, and I just kind of look around and watch as things unfold. It’s the tits, guys. It’s goddamn magical, and I found it today. I had it yesterday too, actually…I think I’ve had the flow for a while. It’s not particularly fast in the flow, though it can be from time to time depending on the scene and the day…but it’s alive. It’s specific.
I wrote 1,200 words today. That puts me juuuuust slightly behind the two-day total of 4,000 words at 3,800. Nothing. A trifle. I’ll go over my word count tomorrow and be right back in the black. Tomorrow I have to finish up this scene, and then write the next chapter, which might be a short one. We’ll see. We’re going inside the machine.
It’s time for bed. I’m sleeeepy. Coco is up at the top of the bed, ready for some Zzzzzzs.
Night.
Artwork this evening is by Oska.