I remembered something about drafting last week, as I scribbled my opening chapter. There were all the usual woes: how to introduce character after character, how to make the setting new and fresh, how to make Chapter One count for more than just a big "Hello My Name Is _____."
I remembered the hate side of my love-hate relationship with writing. I remembered that the editor voice inside my head doesn't actually talk during the first draft, but instead it crouches in the corner of my mind and makes noises like a cat retching.
And I remembered one more thing. That if I push through this, and really do push, then I get to this sunny, happy, the-hills-are-alive-with-the-sound-of-music kind of place. Last time, it took me two weeks. Two solid weeks of grinding my teeth, but then I really did make it through. The next six weeks were glory.
So. It's only been one week, and an off-and-on week at that. I really don't want another week or so of cat retching. I mean... come on.
I'm gonna drown it out. With a big, bold, air horn. Here's what I'm going to do. I'm focusing on everything I love about writing. About storytelling. About books. Because it really is a super-huge list. I really, actually, do love this work.
So brace yourself. Because April is going to be a big love letter to the literary life.
And that editor in my head is just going to have to go puke somewhere else for a while. I have a draft to love.