All that huffing and puffing in procrastination has finally done its job, I fooled myself into working on my novel. YES my reverse psychology has paid off. Or maybe it was that plea I gave myself the other day,”come on Adrienna, just one hour you can at least give yourself one hour of work.” One hour turned into three. There was research involved, but I can honestly say, to myself, that it was all pertinent to the book. In fact, I ended up creating a fuller more descriptive view of a train station which also carries the first impressions of the place that Annabelle, the protagonist, gets of the new city. I’m also learning more of what the book is about. I still don’t really know, I mean, I know what happens, I already wrote the events, but there is more under all the words. So weird, you’d think I would know what I’m writing about wouldn’t you? I suppose all I would be able to say to someone at this point is that it is not formulaic, it isn’t a sub-genre of fiction, like fantasy or mystery, it’s just about real people, set in a real time, living with real challenges and fears. The challenges and fears may be a little odd or surreal even, but no vampires or suspense. It might be boring. I shrug.
The most important thing to say about it, at this point, is that I am working on it again. Five pages, three hours, wow, but whatever.
On a side not, the other day I used hurley burley correctly in a sentence, and I was about as proud of myself as when I used the term, unbearable lightness. It’s strange, but a rare sentence off the cuff can thrill me to no end. I think to myself, “holy shit, I wrote that! All that reading does come in handy!”