Masochism?

Stumbling, bumbling along, I finally got some real writing in yesterday.

Over 1,250 words were picked off of Writhe’s sequel’s back like bloated ticks off a hound dog...

Ok, admittedly that is not a very pretty picture.

Apologies.

Sometimes, however, writing is more of a task than a joy.

I’m struggling through that right now as I try to detach myself from obsessive sales watching on Book One (see yesterday’s blog for all those pitiful details) and get my ass back to creating Book Two.

*sighs*

Would somebody please pick the bloated OCD tic off of my back for a bit?

*grins shakily but carries on*

What worked yesterday and what I’m hoping will work today in getting those creative juices flowing again is setting Book Two up as a writing challenge for me.

Every writer has things they struggle to write, be it the sex scenes, action, humor, or whatever.

The things I feel like I could do better I’m concentrating on in this sequel. Forcing myself to make those tricky-to-Chloe scenes into strong pieces of writing to be proud of.

Normally, I shy away from my weaker points, going heavy on the stuff I feel I’m really good at. I’m sure most writers most of the time do the same thing. Nothing wrong with that. After all, it’s easier that way.

But Chloe ain’t doing easy this time.

Nope.

No siree Bob!

If the writing is going to feel like a task anyhow, I might as well be learning something from all the hard, picking-ticks-off-hound-dogs work.

Right?

Or have my slight masochistic tendencies suddenly spilled over into my writing?

I don’t know.

Kind of wish I did, though.

Until tomorrow…

Chloe and the bloated ticks