What Stalls You?

I’m stalled. I’ve not written much of anything (except maybe a couple of posts for the new blog) for a few weeks now. I tried to do some editing, and managed to slog through a single chapter, but that’s about it. Life stepped in front of me and my good intention mobile and I had to slam on the brakes or risk having everything fall to pieces.

I’d like to thank my unpleasant neighbor for that minor catastrophe. Sandy, I will purposefully NOT dedicate any part of my book to you. Unless it’s a particularly evil character. Evil. Eeeeviiilll. Really nasty.

Huh? Oh, yes, stalling…

So, I’ve allowed the manuscript to wallow in my misery, watched it stamp a foot at my time-wasting talents (I’ve been physically exhausted and using the computer to relax, but that doesn’t seem to matter to the WIP. What a diva.)

Now that the big push is over, I should be starting up the editing, but I’m still tired. Six weeks of non-stop demands requiring strenuous physical labor can really put a kibosh on maintaining an upright position at the keyboard. I won’t even mention how it creates the mental capacity of a gnat. What’s worse is my job will be starting up in a few days, which is also physically demanding, so I’m not sure when I’ll be able to put enough coherent thoughts together.

Also on the daunting scale: my big blunders. As usual, time line and calendar are acting as my arch nemeses, but this time, just to make it REALLY interesting, a simple thing like a payday has managed to wreak total havoc on my good editing intentions. While not insurmountable, these three issues are so tightly woven into the manuscript, that straightening them out will have a ripple effect on the rest of the document. Ok, maybe not the rest of the manuscript, but certainly the part I’m working on. Or would be working on if I weren’t so overwhelmed.

So this brings me to my problem of being stalled. Fatigue and tangled storyline. Not just tangled, more like macrame. Only not as pretty. Or useful.

What hits your stall button? More important, how do you get started again?

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About Ms. Karen

This is what happens when you live with a writer: there are pens everywhere, except by the phone; notebooks...so many notebooks with strange scribblings that make no sense but must never be thrown away; and long rambling monologues about what certain characters would, or would not do in a given situation. It's almost as difficult as living with an artist. Man, THOSE people are bizarre...
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4 Responses to What Stalls You?

  1. daoine says:

    Oh I hear you. Running around after a toddler all day and co-sleeping, plus feeding every two hours overnight, and my brain is mush. My characters are just sitting around a campfire toasting marshmallows at the moment. Even the villain is curled up with a good book. Oh, to curl up with a good book… sigh.

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  2. Heather says:

    I think ahead too much. And then it seems like a monumental task to get up to where my characters are in my head. And then I realize I have laundry to do. Sigh.

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  3. Selma says:

    I’m thinking about canning it all right now. I don’t mean to sound melodramatic (but hey, I’m a drama queen of sorts) but every word is like a knife in my heart. I guess at 45 years old I am tired of trying to make it. The delete button on my computer is like the freaking Holy Grail right now. Will I turn to stone or disappear into the ether if I delete all my writing? It is anyone’s guess. I hear you, Karen. I hear you….

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  4. Ms. Karen says:

    d., yeah, motherhood can be one of the biggest hurdles to overcome when it comes to writing. Between the exhaustion and the demands… yawwwwn…zzzzzz

    Heather, I do the same darn thing. I’m already thinking about book four of this series and I’ve only barely started the second round of editing on the first one, and the rough draft of book two. I want them done, dang it, NOW!

    Selma, yeah… I know. I’ve felt that feeling on several occasions, and you know what? I’ve figure out when it gets to that point, it’s time to unplug and let it rest. It will either start kicking you in the shins until you come back ready to finish, or that desire to write will simply wander away into the sunset. Mine came back, unfortunately, it’s had to stand in line behind a bunch of real life stuff that cannot wait, but at least I know it’s there and waiting for me. I also know I can leave it for a little while and it won’t run off. That’s a bit of a relief, in my head anyway.

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