I hate my trunk novel.
It’s so good and so not at the same time. Everytime I sit down and try to write my brain swims back to the plotline and the characters that I already have. I haven’t been able to unravel the problems in the plot. I haven’t been able to write anything new that’s more than a couple of pages long. It’s extremely frustrating.
I have tried to put it away. I have deleted my digital copies (most of them) I even went so far as to print the damn thing out and burn it page by page while drinking. Nothing works… I can’t get it out of my head. This is what Hell looks like for writers.
This is just annoying. I imagine Hell is much worse.
Anyway, every time I get into a writing mindset I’m forced with the choice to work around my impulses or go back and try the trunk again. It’s like going back to an old lover. “This time it will be different,” I say dreamily. “I’ve learned my lesson this time. I’m more mature. I’m older, wiser, I know what I’m doing.”
Someone just slap me.
Before the damned trunk novel does.