I’m still cranking through the sequel and it’s getting to be almost torturous.
The moments where words seem to flow naturally are interspersed with coffee breaks and Tumblr posts and GoT marathons. I’m so easily distracted that when I finally sit down to write, my fingers seem rigged with lead. It’s like chicken pecking and carpal tunnel all at the same time.
The only times I find that my words come easily is when I’m not doing what I’m supposed to be doing. I’m tweeting or replying to a post or ranting about something on Faceboook. Or, even worse/better, I’m caught up in outlining another story that I have yet to start, and yet I know my protagonist’s favorite ice cream flavor and the one song she always cries to.
I know that writing is a habit, and that the more you practice, the better you become at following through. I’ve just never been good at actually practicing.
Ren Martinez 