This is so uncalled for. I got out of the shower this morning, dried off, and reached for the foot powder. That’s when somebody snuck up behind me and stuck a knife in the small of my back. And twisted. Hard. Son-of-a-bitch-that-hurt!
So I spent the next hour lying on the bathroom floor trying not to scream. I’m moving around a little better now. I can at least walk a few steps. Thank God for 4-footed canes.
On the plus side, I have a lot of time to think about Washed in the Blood. New plot twists are cropping up, as are ideas on weaving in the 2 plot lines that are currently hanging fire.
I finished the read-through and mark-up on Chapters 1-3 (of 12 existing) yesterday. I’ve added 6 new scenes and made lots of notes on expanding and enhancing what’s already there.
I’m feeling really good about this novel. For a few days, I had worked myself up into a lather with self-doubt. I had done a good job on working through the mid-Winter depression this year up until then. Suddenly, I was sure I could not handle this job. It’s too big. It’s too complicated. There’s too many things to consider: plot, pacing, characters, description, dialogue.
Finally, yesterday afternoon, I told myself “Just shut up and do it.” So I did. It felt good, too. I can do this. I will do this. Just shut up and write.