The Dreaded

Oh, my! And a long winded sigh. I'm almost there. Almost finished with my first novel. The first couple of years felt like I was training for a marathon. Now I'm running a race. Got a deadline to meet. Got a synopsis to write. Oh, and the query letter, too. Total dread. I'm one of those people who can't stop my pen from going. Sometimes I can't stop the character chatter going on in my head. A writer's got do what a writers got to do, right?

If anyone is reading this, I do feel your pain and so do a lot of other writers. This is not the favorite part of writing a novel but it is the initiation part. Be thankful that we don't have to drink blood or cut ourselves for this initiation. All we have to do is write some more. Something we like to do. Remind yourselves of this.

What's the big deal? All we need is three lines of what your novel is about along with an introduction of yourself, an envelope, and a stamp. Don't forget to address it and put it into the mailbox. And then, wait of course and go about your life. You know, go to your day job, start another novel, clean out your closets...stay busy. Don't think too hard about it but by all means follow up. Don't be annoying though.

One day you go to the mailbox or your phone rings or you get an e-mail. Bingo, they like it. Now they want your synopsis. I hope you perfected that while you waited for the news. All you need is one to three pages of what your novel is about. That's all. Not hard, right?

Painful, I know. It really hurts to summarize your work. I know. You can do it. Just know that your not being asked to slice a dove in half or participate in some Santanic ritual. That's a good thing. All you need is a couple good brain farts. And,wallah! You've created a synopsis.

It's all good.

Writer's Block v. Constipation

There's not much difference between being constipated, at a loss for pooing, and having writer's block, being at a loss for words. The words to describe both: frustrating and painful.

It irks me when I sit down at my keyboard in front of a blank screen and I can't come up with a darned thing to write. Today, I finished chapter thirty to my novel. I it ended with some mysterious person coming through the door.

As usual I set up my page to chapter thirty-one. You know, header, page number, title, and chapter. And then, without warning my brain stopped. Maybe there's a brick somewhere hidden in the corridors and whatever thoughts I had smashed into it. I don't know.

I tried doodling. Arrows over arrows. Flowers with pretty leaves. Houses with chimneys. Okay, that didn't work. So, I wrote stuff. Stuff that has absolutely nothing to do with my novel. Okay, that didn't work. So, I went for a walk. I walked the dogs. I walked and talked to the dogs about my current dilema. Both of them plopped their butts on the pavement, tilted their heads and raised their ears but they had no clue what to tell me. I didn't have a clue what to tell me.

I go back inside. There I decide to clean my shower and then I clean my entire shower. During this event, I daydreamed about my characters hoping they'd guide me to the answer for my next chapter. Oh my God! Nothing came out. My brain literally hurt.

Read, I say. I'll sit on the great white throne and read. I remind myself that I did have a serving of flax seeds on my quinoa this morning. The bottom half shouldn't be a problem. But nothing comes out at either end.

A revelation happens. Wow! Maybe there is a brain and butt connection. Never know. Maybe this one could be the next great conspiracy theory against all writers. Maybe there should be a discussion on this.

But, I do know this, when they finally flow it's like Irritable Bowel Syndrome. It goes on and on for days. Not necessarily on the same day though.