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Today is one of those gloomy, rainy days. Most of the time I love days like this, but today seems unsettled. Storm is coming, you can feel it like a prickle along the back of your neck. Normally, again, I like storms, but today just feels oppressive, as if something really big is sneaking up on us here. Maybe I’m being melodramatic, I am a writer after all. We artistic types do love our drama sometimes, but it’s not just me. My mother-in-law, Mary, is having the same trouble focusing as I am. You go from task to task, and don’t really get anything done. You move things around, but nothing is accomplished.
The problem is, that I’m at the fight scene in SWALLOWING DARKNESS. I really need to accomplish something today. I keep staring at the words on the screen and moving them around, or deleting, or talking to myself on screen, but no real forward progress. I can’t seem to “see” the scene in my head. I need to feel the seat of the car Merry is sitting in, smell the gunshots. Oh, yeah, you can smell a gun shot, if you’re close enough. It’s especially easy if a lot of rounds are going off. It’s the CORDITE, that you smell. It’s not a bad smell, or even acrid, just a smell. It does have an aftertaste of something burning, but it doesn’t quite smell burnt. I’ve come to like the smell.
I need to feel Merry’s hand around her sword hilt, and I don’t. I don’t “feel” it. It’s just words on paper today. Crap.
Today is a slogging day. A day when you feel like you’re hiking through thick mud, and you can’t move any faster, and the harder you try the more tired you get. If you want to see a visual of what I mean by slogging, check out the Top Gear episode 6 of Series 10 (Episode number 88). The Review of the Alfa Romeo 159. Graham Boanas, who crosses the Humber river in a race with James May, slogs through the mud.
Maybe I’m afraid, not that we’ll loose the bad guy, but that we might loose another good guy. We lost Frost last book, I don’t want to loose anymore, and neither does Merry. Double crap, often my subconscious knows when something bad is coming on paper, long before I know. One of the signs that is happening, is that I begin to slow in the progress of the book, slow until I’m crawling along, or stopped all together. Is that what this is? Are we going to loose another man that Merry’s loves? I hope not. There are days when being one of those writers that plans everything, and controls everything, looks pretty good. But it’s never been the way I write.
Maybe it’s just the weather. Maybe once the storm breaks we’ll be fine. If you’ve got a favorite of Merry’s men, then start wishing them well, because I’ve got that dread feeling. To give you some idea of what that means, the first time I had it was in GUILTY PLEASURES with Phillip.