The 300th Page Blues

You might have noticed the lack of posts. Well, I’ve been floundering. Have suddenly discovered what a little whimp one of my main characters is. He just floats along like a bit of dandelion fluff. I also realize I have about 4 subplots that have just sort of wandered off and been left to float in the wind. This happens every time I get to the neighborhood of 300 pages. I don’t know what to do: go back and do some fixing, because I never know where things are going until I write them, so therefore, I don’t know how to go forward. Or, do I leave well enough alone, trusting that whatever I write in the future will not affect or will be easily blended into the past?

So I have been silent on the writing front since Thursday. Not that I haven’t attempted to write, but most of it has been staring at pages, or cutting up paragraphs or pages and moving them to alternate files, thinking, I will insert something here, then realizing how fruitless that is. So I sit there, and read things about writer’s block, knowing that’s not what I really have. What I have is the fear. The fear of farking it up. So tonight, I just sat and wrote the one storyline that I knew how to proceed on. I got 5 pages. Somebody give me a big fat hug and a kiss.

I guess the good news is that there is no problem ramping up the angst on the whimpy mc. I mean, he’s a teenager in a fantastical situation, with a female authority figure leading him around by the nose. (And, though I love her, she’s a bit of a bitch, and that’s being nice about it.) His mother is a mush-headed drug addict. Gee, I wonder what the conflict should be...