It was going pretty well. I really liked my idea and I thought the plot and characters were quite interesting, but making it come to life was kind of like pulling teeth. Like pulling my own teeth. With no anaesthetic. And only rusty screwdrivers as tools.
So yeah. It wasn't going very well and I was feeling pretty disheartened.
I also noticed that I didn't really want to talk about it. Which was worrying because some of the sites I had seen on writing novels said that it can be really helpful for authors to talk about their ideas with trusted friends or to let people know that they are writing a novel to help keep them motivated. I know this isn't for everyone, but I didn't even want to admit to people that I was writing, let alone discuss the content.
I guess in hindsight I should have seen that as a warning, but alas, I pushed on.
I pushed on for a few months with no success at all.
Finally I got fed up with the whole thing, and interestingly that's when everything started to fall into place.
I resolved to stop writing (hence the blog inactivity), or thinking about writing, or reading about writing, or trying to talk about writing. I just stopped.
I focused on my normal everyday life and trying to kick the cough that had been bugging me for weeks.
That's when it happened. That's when I had the idea that has made me happier about writing than I have been in months.
It was an idea for a new story. It started out as a random thought and developed quite quickly into a plot and characters and conflicts.
I have progressed further with this story in two days than I did with the last one in all the months I was working on it.
It seems wrong to jump from one thing to another. I feel like my commitment issues are coming out to play and I know this might be a huge mistake, but here I am, powering through the random notebook that I hurriedly bought at Coles the other night. :)
Here's hoping this streak of inspiration lasts a little longer. :)