Here is an excerpt on my most recent work in progress. It has been a long ride but I am pleased to say the first draft has one maybe two chapters left before the end.
Alison knew what was going on, on some level it made sense. It had always made sense. When she was younger it happened, back then losing a moment or two of time didn’t seem to matter. When she had been a little girl getting lost in the emotion of the moment had been an adventure. Occasionally she would remember what had transpired, other times she would wake up not having the slightest clue where the afternoon had been spent. Alison had never been harmed in those lost moments and from what little she could remember no one else had been harmed.
She had never once been scared. No, the excitement pulsed through her young body. It was the reason she never told anyone about the episodes, the loss of them was a reality she could not face.
I think that has to be the reason I haven’t finished the first draft of my latest novel. I have tried and tried to finish it over the last few weeks and I seem to find any excuse possible not to. Even this blog update is a form of procrastination.
Do you know what the worst part is? I know exactly how I want the end to work out, I have the basic outline so the writing can take me there but I can seem to bring myself to write it. I really like the novel itself, I think it has great potential……
Maybe I am afraid after all this work it will be horrible? Maybe I am afraid it won’t live up to my expectations? Maybe I am afraid that it won’t be worth editing? I don’t think I believe any of this but I seem to be sabotaging myself subconsciously….
Is anyone else afraid of the end?
What helps you break through the final wall?
It has been a interesting week for any number of reasons but mainly because I have decided to write my next novel. The first one is complete and being edited before I make any big decisions; in the mean time I can’t stop myself from starting on this new endeavor. The bookshelf is symbolic of that; the piece I am starting is a personal essay/memoir of sorts, something I never thought I would put to paper. It had always been there, locked away and hiding behind the door I had put up in front of it. I dug out the key, walked inside; I did not like what I saw but I saw an important story to be shared. It is a risk, I am excited yet nervous. So I ask my followers what great ideas are you keeping locked up behind the door? What is stopping you from finding the key?
Happy Friday Everyone!