I'm moody, constantly need something to feel excited about—a
nice review, a new project I'm working about, etc.—and small things can throw
me into a funk. Last Sunday misadventures with plumbing got me in a bad mood.
Since misery loves company, other worries and self-doubts joined in and soon I
had a full-blown anxiety attack. To top it all off, I had to admit that my WIP
was in trouble.
Nature came to the rescue. I went to the park and lay under
a tree. After a few hours of thinking, watching the birds, and one of them
pooping on me, I figured out the problem—I'd jumped into the story before fully
flashing out my protagonists. I went home feeling good, created detailed
characters sheets, and started writing again.
Two chapters later, I realized it still wasn't working. In
theory it was all there, but I wasn't feeling it. I couldn't inhabit my
characters. Even with first person POV, I was looking at my narrator from the
outside. So I took another trip to the park. I think I figured out the problem
and the solution. We'll see. I still have anxiety. (And problems with plumbing.)
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