I previously announced I was "Back". Back to working on my novel after three weeks of picking up the pieces of my shattered confidence. Back in the swing of things.
That's not entirely true, not yet anyway. The last two days I have looked at my desk or thought about writing and felt a twinge of deep rooted horror. And stepped away.
The source: a disastrous two hours of writing that occurred about two weeks ago, during my "Down" period. For two hours, I worked on my synopsis, encouraged by a second chance received from the agent who selected me in the Dragons' Pen at Harrogate Festival. She had critiqued my first attempt as part of the event, concluding that my work wasn't up to scratch, but kindly allowed me to submit a second effort.
Two hours, I sat there. Two hours working on my synopsis. Two hours and going no where.
My problem: I was stuck on the opening sentence. Everything I tried didn't work for various reasons: too vague; too wordy; inaccurate; or just plain rubbish. There was no happy ending either. After the two hours of pulling my hair out writing sentences and deleting them just as quickly, I gave up. And haven't been back since.
The horror of that late afternoon two weeks ago has stuck with me, making it difficult to return to my study and the blank page.
It's time to take my own advice, which is as follows:
In these circumstances, you just have to accept that you're in a bad place with your writing. Accept it and get on with it. The only way out is to write your way out. Keep tapping away, keep deleting the rubbish, and keep trying to get it right. There's no other way.
So tonight, without preamble or forethought, I am booting up the old Dell and starting my journey Back on that rollercoaster ride to publication.