Today, I wrote 1-1/2 pages of new material for the first time in about 3 months.
I haven't been sitting on my assets during that time. I've revised and sent a science fiction romance partial to my agent in October. I typed in all I had of the historical novel and sent that to my agent in November. I revised a contemporary paranormal romance partial and finally got that out last week. I needed that time off. But now, it's time for new stuff.
The excitement is building for this story, even though I've been doing all kinds of procrastination stuff this week during my writing time. I unboxed and installed my new printer. I read the last 3 chapters of the wip (and cried till tears dripped off my cheeks at the last chapter. Again.) to get back into the world of the story. I made a calendar big enough to write out my timeline on and actually read it. I even looked up rivers in China and the Burma Road. But today, I took that necessary step. I put new words down on paper.
This is a story I'm already about halfway through. Maybe more (I never really know until I get to the end). I love the story. And still, every time, it's the same. The blank page mocks me. Until I pick up the pen and write some words on it. (Throwback, remember? First drafts in longhand. And some of them are Really Long First Drafts.) But then, once those words are written, it gets easier. I remember that I do sort of, kinda know what I'm doing. And that--okay, it's not easy, but it's not that hard either. And I like doing it. It's ... not fun, exactly, but-- satisfying. It feels Right.
I am still a busy, busy person. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, and am probably driving with my guys to take a load of stuff to the out-of-hurricane-range storage on Saturday. I may not get anything more written until Monday. But that's okay. Because I've STARTED.