I’m stuck. I have several ideas that I am interested in, but I have hit a bit of a dead end with the one I am currently working on. I just finished a paragraph and thought to myself: now what?
I’ve never written an entire novel. I’ve started work on a few ideas, some of which are still floating about and may come into full fruition in due time. But following through is new to me.
If I weren’t as serious about this as I am, then I would probably stop here and move on. Obviously that is not going to happen.
I have an idea, several ideas and a part of me believes that there’s a way to combine them. I don’t want to overload the story, however. But I have found some things in common in two stories, which could be fairly easily combined to make one story that could possibly work out somehow.
Yes, I am being terribly vague here. Just trying to think “out loud” if you will.
I may have to consider developing an actual concept to which I could then continue to write. I’ve tried this before, but then it didn’t seem to do much for me. Now it could end up being what I need.
If it were a simple, straight forward idea, I could just run with it and let it go. That doesn’t appear to be the case anymore, though. I also don’t want to lose track of where I am at and what I’ve done so far.
Don’t ever let anyone tell you that writing is easy. It’s not. It’s very hard work indeed.
It looks as if I am going to have to take out the club and clobber that elusive inspiration into submission once I have found it. See what I mean? Hard work.
Mind you, the hard part is not when I am stretched out on my bed thinking about the next step. I very much wish I could live a writer’s life at least 50% of the time. You know, that part where one actually gets to sit and think and then take notes, think some more and then get to work very seriously indeed regardless of what time of day it might be, because night time or day time is irrelevant, you have nowhere else to be anyway.
I seriously wonder what would happen, if I would get to live by myself and spend my evenings just writing, as well as my weekends and any other spare time I can find.
I fear I might become a complete recluse, which I don’t think I would mind that much.
And that is what worries me.