Inspiration Strikes

Damn, I wrote a thousand words today. That's nothing. Nothing. Why am I so proud?

Writer's block, my friends. When it strikes it hits me in the belly, hard, and makes me feel nauseous, like I've been tossing and turning in bed all night with a tummyache. You think you're all better then something's a little uncomfortable, no problem, you just have to turn around, have to fix your pillow all better, but rrrrn still uncomfortable, curl up into a ball? Better? For a little bit, sure, but you still can't sleep so you turn over again, and nothing is ever achieved.

I was suffering from creative stagnation. Today, I gave up writing what I thought I should be writing. Instead, I wrote a crazy-ass scene that should never be in a fantasy novel at all, and by the way I love it.

Why can't I write the way I always do? Why do I have to chain myself down to plot, plot, plot, world-building, plot plot? Why can't I go into a strange deconstructed scene that switches between tenses and between first and third person as my character becomes more and more outright bonkers? Yeah! I can! Nuts to you, marketing brain. I can write what I want.

A thousand words is nothing but it was the best thousand words I've written in a while.