Addicted

Okay, I can see now how this blogging thing gets addicting. I've checked back about a hundred times today to see if there were any comments on my blog. (I know, that's pathetic, but it is true.)

I thought I was going to get a decent night's sleep tonight, but as soon as I started to nod off, Josie woke up crying. I did finally get her back to sleep, but now I'm awake and I'm typing on my blog instead of going back to sleep. I was NOT going to let her sleep with me again. Last night, I gave in to her mournful cries and this morning I had a killer headache from sleeping with her little head and her little feet on my back all night. Over the course of the day I downed four Excedrin, two Motrin and about thirty-two ounces of Pepsi, but it didn't even touch the headache. Yeah, I know, another reason why I'm not sleepy right now.

I keep beating my head against the keyboard (figuratively speaking) because I'm suffering a bout of writer's block that I'm having trouble kicking. The thing that is so frustrating is that I know exactly what I want to write, I just don't have the right words. The real problem is that it's the start of a new story and I don't like to start badly, so I haven't been able to start at all. I KNOW that it's just the first draft and a first draft is always bad, but I don't like it. Anyway, I once went to a writer's conference and in a panel discussion someone asked a published author what she did about writer's block. She said, "Writer's block is a crock!" She went on to explain that it is just your mind's way of saying you are uncomfortable with whatever you have to write. Her solution: write through it.

Esther sent my novel back. It's very cute with all Aimee's edits in it. She caught a lot of mistakes, which surprised me. I thought it was a pretty clean manuscript, but it just goes to show you that you can't fully edit your own stuff. Your brain tells you it says what you think it says, even if it really doesn't. I keep looking at the thing and wondering what I should do with it. I mean, I know what I'm supposed to do with it: query and wait for rejection letters that come in piles, but I can't face it yet. So, I set the thing on the bookshelf, and I keep walking by it thinking about scenes in it and wondering if someday an agent will want to read it. For now, I'm still wondering and trying to get going on another book.

I realize to someone who isn't a writing junkie, this probably sounds insane, especially when you consider that I already have five manuscripts on the shelf. But, I enjoy the challenge of a new story, and I already love these characters who are kicking around in my head. Someday I'm going to HAVE to sell a book and justify all the time I spend writing, but for now, my kids are young and I am writing to keep my sanity. It's like reading a good book, only backward. It's the same process and the same escape, but you're sending it out instead of taking it in-- if that makes any sense at all.