I have a new arch nemesis. Chapter Nine. For three long weeks I have been writing this damn chapter. It’s a bitch of a fighter. This isn’t a case of writers block. I know what I want to write. I see it. It’s all playing out in my head, clear as a sunny day. I just can’t seem to get the words to leave my head and transfer onto the Word document. Chapter Nine won’t allow it to happen. I’ll pound a sentence out on my keyboard then… nothing. Nada. Zilch. The big Zippo. It’s frustrating the hell out of me.
I really don’t understand why it’s so hard. It’s a fun chapter to write. Honestly, all of the chapters have been fun to write…some more stubborn than others, but fun nonetheless. I like my characters, well most of them. I like their friends. I wish they were real so I could hang out and have a couple of drinks with them.
I tend to write the same sentence fifty different ways until I like the way it sounds. I’m not a stickler for proper grammar if the dialogue sounds like normal people talking. I like to play with words, flip them around and make it feel right. Flip them one way…eh, maybe I’ll flip them another way and see how that flows…you get the idea. Maybe I’m an over-flipper.
I’m at the point now where I feel like flipping off Evil Chapter Nine.
Funny thing is, chapter ten, eleven and so on are written… they need editing, but they’re done for the most part. Hell, the ending is written. They’re patiently waiting on this chapter so they can get prettied up and move forward.
My goal is to finish Evil Chapter Nine today. Of course, I’m already procrastinating by writing this blog entry. When my book is finally published (do you hear the angels singing?) and if you are so inclined to read it (of course you are)…take special notice of Evil Chapter Nine.
The Chapter that tried to do me in.
On a side note, some of you may be wondering what happened to Shelly…my Muse. The one thing I could count on to inspire me and help me through these tough times. Well, Shelly’s been sleeping on the job. It ends up Shelly is a lazy little whore, living in a hedonistic threesome with another shell and a starfish.
I’m on my own once again.