Running My Fingers Over My Hair

Has it really been since Saturday?!?!!? Wow. I'm so sorry. I've been pretty active in the blogosphere, reading and commenting more than I ever thought I would. Good stuff! I keep thinking I'll find the end of all these wonderful writer/agent/editor blogs. But I haven't.

Anyway, this week has been me trying desperately to finish enough things in a day to feel productive. Crazy. I haven't written much, haven't blogged at all (obviously), and the floors still haven't been cleaned. Which is disgusting. The laundry, however, has been enough to make me feel halfway satisfied.

Today I did write 2000 words. Barely. With much effort. Much, much effort. Much, much, exhausting effort.

I'm not sure why it was so hard. I think a large part of it is due to the fact that I changed a few things in a certain - pivotal - scene. I've written it all different ways in the preceding drafts, always trying to make the best sense of all the characters. So this time, I took a route I've been thinking of. It would have been easy in the first or second draft, because I wouldn't have been worrying so much about continuity and making-sense-ness. I would have just written it and hang the consequences.

But this is the third and final draft, so I very much have to care about consequences, and whether or not it makes sense, and that the word suddenly is way too frequently used.

While I was struggling through today's words, I sighed and ran my fingers over my hair. (I would say through my hair, except I wear a tightly pulled-back ponytail and running my fingers through my hair would mess everything up. Note to self: Make sure characters aren't wearing their hair up when they oh-so-dramatically run their fingers through their hair.) Anyway, I was struggling and running my fingers over my hair and down my face and...I didn't feel alone.

I knew that somewhere out there, at least one of my blogger friends was doing the same thing. Maybe. Hopefully. Thanks to Tosca Lee's WriterCam on Facebook, I know she would commiserate. Would you? Have you ever been sitting at your computer with a word count that is NOT what you want and run your fingers through (or over) your hair and wondered Is It Just Me? Because you are not alone. If nothing else, I'm here doing the same.

<-- Tosca Lee, author of Demon, Havah, and co-author with NYT Bestseller Ted Dekker. I don't feel so bad.

For more encouragement from the blogosphere, Elana Johnson reminds us not to give up over on Sara B. Larson's blog, and Kristin Cashore promises that the voices of hopelessness are normal and can be overcome. Be encouraged.

Oh, and yes, the music player is gone. Like the clog-soled shoes.

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