"Write something, anything!" That's what they say when you have writer's block. This past snowy weekend I've done what all the blogs about writing say not to do. I stared at a blinking cursor. My brain was thinking of food, snow, cold air, and sleep, but not one word entered between my ears to help my character get from point A to B. I knew where I wanted her to end up, just didn't know how she was going to get there.
The elusive cursor continued to blink at me while I searched for movies on Amazon. It continued to blink when I answered more emails after the movie. And darn tooting, it is still blinking at me even though words are pouring out. They just aren't the words I need.
If I don't find the words soon, my critique group is going to get mad at me again. They hate it when I interrupt the story with an aside. That's where my brain goes, it goes aside. Not down the plot path of my novel, not down the road to finishing, but to another place, another character, an entirely different story.
Perhaps it is the fault of my dreams. Truly, the caterpillar hero that saved the ladybug from the spider's web has more importance in my limited brain than Lizzy, the girl who is supposed to be helping a ghost cross over.
Oh well, I will eventually, probably after several more bottles of wine, finish writing one novel. But while I wait, the Grollen are calling. (Ask one of my critique partners, they'll understand.)
