I have been in a dark place lately. That lonely, horrible place where you can't write. No, not prison. Just in my head, alone with characters that held me hostage. They wouldn't let me type their stories. Honest. So I picked up a pen and a notebook and started writing. After a two month haitus from the written word I find myself randomly scribbling on scrap paper every chance I get.
Granted, we all do this. But most of us will scribble a line or an idea. Just writing it down so we don't forget before firing up the computer. Well not this girl, not with this book. Nope, the whole thing seems to be demanding that it be written in long hand. And I am humoring the muse...for now. Eventually the f*er will have to be typed, unless Michele wants me to mail her an envelope full of mismatched pages in colorful, large and small printed, hand written pages. Which if you're up for it Michele, I have quite a bit done already. :)
My biggest problem so far is that I am not writing in order. I didn't sit down with my notebook and start at the beginning. No, I started about a quarter of the way in. Then I jumped back and wrote the scene leading up to that scene, then the scene leading to that one. And now, I am writing the scene that happens after the first sex scene between the main characters. Yeah, I haven't actually written the sex scene yet. Nope there is just a plain white page seperating the sections with "INSERT F*CK SCENE HERE" boldly scrawled across it in hot pink pen. I am a fun girl.
That is the actual notebook I am using. It is tan suede and since I have been using it everywhere I go it is filthy. Not the yummy kind of filthy, the words inside are not dirty, just the outside. It has only been a couple of weeks, but the suede is worn smooth and the edges are black with God knows what. But it is mine. It is a hard copy testament to the fact that I am a real writer. I can force my muse to cooperate, I just have to be willing to give a little. Of course, we all know that comprimise is key to any relationship. Why should my marriage to my muse be any different?