Yesterday I only wrote 357 words. I’m not joking. The weekends are always harder for me because as I’ve said before, my desk is in the living room. I got up early (before the crack of dawn) to write. I sat down at my desk with my cup of coffee, in my favorite cup that my husband bought for me that says “Fresh-brewed inspiration for the day ahead,” and began checking my emails, FB, WP, etc. I wrote a post about the support we do or don’t receive from Friends and Family, and then I began reading the last few pages of my WIP. As I was writing an idea hit my mind for a novel like a home-run being hit out of the park. I opened up a new Scrivener project and wrote what I had down into it.
I had to stop writing so I could get ready for church… First time I’ve been to church in years, but my stepdaughter goes on a regular basis and yesterday her grandmother (my husband’s ex mother-in-law) wasn’t going so she’d be sitting alone. Mr. Rockstar’s sister and her husband and their family go to the same church and have been trying to get me and Mr. Rockstar to come. Mr. Rockstar has gone with his daughter on occasion, when she sang in the Christmas or Easter pageant or when she was baptized, or for various other things but he didn’t like the pastor they had then. Fire and brimstone type preacher…yelling… Said he wasn’t into a church where they scared people into following or obeying God. But there’s a new pastor now, and my stepdaughter loves going to church so I went with her.
After church I had to stop by the grocery store so by the time we got home it was two o’clock. We hung out in the pool for about an hour and a half, then my mother-in-law stopped by for a few minutes, Then it was time to start dinner… After dinner we took Mr. Rockstar’s daughter home and by the time we got back home it was almost eight thirty in the evening. We watched a little television and I fell asleep in the recliner, which means I never got around to writing anymore on my WIP.
SO this morning as I sip my coffee and write this post I’ve been thinking about the idea that knocked at my mind’s door yesterday. The pull to continue writing about that old man is strong. I feel the story inside me as the other story sits idle in my mind. It’s as if my muse is screaming at me that this story needs to be told first. Damn It! I really need to finish what I was already writing first. I need to finish one novel before I start another… Or Do I?