Writing about writing because that is easier than actually doing the work of it

May 17, 2014 00:50

I have been working away at this story I am writing. And the end is in sight. I have gotten our heroes eating pancakes in bed. They have not gotten up to anything yet-- but they are in a bed (on a bed,) together.

Story ended up being a Henry lV au, set in modern day coastal Maine. (Not at all sure where that came from. And of course not sure it will be accepted for the project. I hope so though.)

Now I just have to do the sex part. You would think that would come easy. I mean I have written enough of such things for Horatio and Archie, and even for a few others: Mr Cleveland and Miss Cathcart, Mr Bush...

This is more difficult I find. Maybe because I have a dimmer visual picture on these two. That has to change.  I am going to have to make myself see them very clearly in the next few hundred words. I am going to have to feel them. One of the things I struggle with, in writing is bringing myself close enough. My initial pass through is always too far away, if that makes sense. Edits and additions are always about getting closer. Does that make sense? Do any of you have the same problem?

Long day here-- grocery and laundry day. Also writing. It was rainy and windy and delightfully grey in Brooklyn today. You had the feeling that the air was a big wet sponge cleaning everything. Now, deep in the night, the sky has cleared. The wind has died. Tomorrow will be sunny and hotter, is my guess.

Now it is very late here. I should be a sensible creature and go to sleep. Goodnight all.

real life, writing about writing instead of writing

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