To stomp around and yell.
I’ve been typing away like mad today. My fingers are sore, my head hurts from the antibiotics I’m on yet again, and everything I’m writing seems like crap. CRAP!
But that’s supposed to be okay. I’ve been the first to tell everyone here that days like this are normal. I know it. You know it.
Doesn’t ever help, does it? <g>
After all, I should be expecting this. I’m back in the ‘giving myself permission to write a crappy first draft’ mode and it has been moving right crappily along when bam– I get to the explanation scene.
Rachel calls them Scooby Doo scenes.
But whatever you call them, they suck. I have these long moments of dialogue broken up by stupid questions. I need to find something for them to be doing other than talking about one thing for the most of a chapter and normally, I’m really good at coming up with this kind of stuff. The stuff they’re talking about is interesting.
I think it’s just me.
Bah. And you know what? I thought I had a problem with action scenes but this particular book has taught me that I don’t. They’re actually fun to write. Especially since my mood lately has been so out-of-this-crappy-world-stressed, I want to kick serious ass in my own, real world. I have to watch it or I’ll have my heroine kicking ass every time someone sneezes.
So, I’ll go back and fix later. I just need to get this first draft done. I know it. You know it.
Still frustating, isn’t it? <g>
I’m better. It’s out of my system.
Thanks for listening. You guys all rock.
In fact, I think I just figured out the scene while I was typing this rant.