I absolutely could not get the girl's voice right in these pages. I kept deleting to the point where I felt sort of like Dr. Frankenstein: This thing will never live! I was going to scrap the whole idea for this book. That's the way writing is sometimes, at least for me. I'm never calm about any of the words.
I always thought writers sat down (I'm imagining Charlotte Bronte who was the first writer I truly loved) at a desk and wrote away into the night with this content smile.
I'm cursing and deleting and just acting nuts.
I was going to come in and delete this blog, put my notes for this story in the recycle pile, and call it a day.
Then, bing, the writing fairies took pity on me, and I wrote a shaky draft of the first 15 pages, changed everyone's name (weirdly important) and I am normal again.
Well, for me. Hopefully, another 15 pages tomorrow, but more realistically, this weekend since I'm having a three day houseguest.