I am beginning to think the only way to do this writing thing properly is to drop the hammer and go. I’ve only been stressing a little about not writing. That’s good. The other thing is that I simply need to get back on the horse. So here I go. I’m going to attempt to binge write for the next few days and see if I burn out.
Binge-writing was how I finished the favorite of my first five novels. I spend only two weeks out of three months actually writing that book, and I hit 85,000 words in that time. It’s the only book I’ve written that quickly, but I preferred writing that way, even if it meant not writing every day. Also important was that I didn’t write it for anyone but myself. I did not think: “Who would want to read this?” I simply wrote that sucker.
I think my greatest problem has always been that I got the joy of my process squeezed out of my by a bunch of well-intentioned pro writers telling my on podcasts that I should think of it as a job. I can’t work that way. But I can write like a beast if I get that joy back. And then will I even want to stop?
So I’m going to try to write 25,000 words before I have to leave home on the 23rd. This goal is secondary however. It is secondary to the joy I want to recapture for my work.