There’s a reason I haven’t posted in a little longer than usual. It was a wall called “story on the wrong track” and I ran into it at full speed. Ow. That’s going to leave a mark for a while.
Cayle and I have spent since Monday disagreeing. I’ve been trying to write and his response to every attempt in that time has been the equivalent of a very long, very nasty stream of expletives. I’d honestly thought him better mannered than that. He usually is. I’ve been trying to soldier on, but I had to acknowledge defeat tonight and figure out what the problem was. I mean, he’d been quite cooperative until now, so I figured something had to be seriously wrong. And it was. Cayle is always right, I think.
I went back and looked at what I was doing with honest, open eyes. I feel like doing a VERY serious headdesk at the moment, because I realized that I was essentially backsliding into an old bad habit with regard to story-building, one I thought I’d conquered. At least it’s just the last section that has turned out like that. I’ve got to rework a bit less than 3k words, so it could be considerably worse. The last time I made this mistake, it cost me a whole draft, so I’m trying to remember that upside. I’m trying very hard (yes, that means it’s not working very well, not the point).
I think I have a line on how to fix this, though, and I don’t think it’ll change too much. I’ll likely spend the rest of the night and at least part of tomorrow replanning the parts that have to be tweaked. I think that, if I do that, I’ll be able to get back to forward progress with Unmasked and finish it off. I’m close, which makes this so much more annoying. It’s not so much that I want to be finished. It’s more that the end is so close I can taste it.
To be honest, I think part of the problem as well is that I’m coming down with some sort of cold or something worse (please not the flu, please NOT the flu). I’m tired all the time and have trouble concentrating on just about anything, even at work. Part of me wants to be done so I can just deal with getting sick, and the rest of me is scared of putting this on hold for any longer than the work day and losing the thread of what I was doing with the story. And then there’s the part that just wants to curl into a ball and sleep for the next hundred years. Yes, I’m that kind of tired at the moment. Then I have trouble getting to sleep. I can’t fricking win at the moment, really, I can’t.
At least Cayle is being patient with me while I make a mess of his story and paddle around in it, expletives notwithstanding. He’s even being sweet about the fact that I am so tired I can’t think straight to fix it all the way at the moment. I hate feeling like this.