I was ten minutes into my writing this morning when my three-year-old woke up about an hour and a half earlier than normal. A bad dream, or perhaps just unhappy to find that there were no parents in her room. After 15 minutes of comforting her until I could tag with my wife, I did manage to get back to the writing, though, and just barely hit my word count.
The current scene starts introspective. My hero is talking to her dead mother as she lays flowers at her grave, and trying to figure out what’s going wrong for her and how her mother would have handled it. By the end of the scene, she is going to find resolve, but I am not enjoying writing the reflections on her mistakes – it’s too much like how I spend most of my days in real life.
I’ll probably want to trim down the soul-searching later and get back into the action as soon as I can, but for now – in this draft – the goal is just to get all of the story on the page, so I have to push through and try not to overthink any of it. That’s much easier with action than introspection – after all, I’m writing about overthinking!
Tomorrow, I need to cut off the sobbing and get my hero back into action. After all, by the end of this scene, everything is going to change, and I want to get to that part.