When Words Don't Come...
Every author faces this. Call it block or whatever you want. I'm too compelled to write to stop for anything - except family crises. So, when I hit a spot where the muse SLOWS, I keep going.
Like in book 3. I'm HEAPING crud on Zoe. HEAPING. Can things get worse for her? You betcha. The fire's up and she's going to get scalded. I don't let the worries of "Oh, is this over the top? Maybe I should rein in..." or stuff like that sway me, or cause me to stop in wonderment. Forget that. Movement is the only thing that keeps words flowing. Scenes blooming.
Chapters solidify under pressure.
Next time you hit the wall, write anyway. See where it gets your characters. Usually, the more intense my environment, the more pleased I am with my creative output.
Like in book 3. I'm HEAPING crud on Zoe. HEAPING. Can things get worse for her? You betcha. The fire's up and she's going to get scalded. I don't let the worries of "Oh, is this over the top? Maybe I should rein in..." or stuff like that sway me, or cause me to stop in wonderment. Forget that. Movement is the only thing that keeps words flowing. Scenes blooming.
Chapters solidify under pressure.
Next time you hit the wall, write anyway. See where it gets your characters. Usually, the more intense my environment, the more pleased I am with my creative output.