I have been so good lately. On target, focused, AND getting my whole long list done. I might even be able to go to print early! My cover is done (until I open it and make that one more tiny little tweek….tiny…..). I’m going through the book one trully final time to be absolutely recently positive that it’s perfect. I’m making my book trailer and enmassing publisher-relative information about marketing and publishing and website and media outlets and….and…and….

Of course, I started to worry about this the other day. I’ve been in compete publisher mode all year. Maybe I need to ground myself anyway (this is my cure for writer’s block. I forbid myself from the computer, from writing, and it begins to gnaw at me so badly that words start pouring, terrified I’m not listening anymore). I haven’t written in awhile and now that I’m aware of that, I’m really not liking it. What if that’s bad? What if my publisher mode refuses to shut off, or I forget how to be in writer mode?

Then today, a scene from a book I didn’t want to write attacks and I had to grab onto a computer and flow it out.

Soooo good. God, I love that character. I speed wrote three pages in five minutes. He’s been doing this to me this year all of a sudden.  He’s always been there, silently watching over my shoulder as I write his other half’s story (Red, soon to be published). It’s supposed to be a woman-only series, but it may not stay that way. Have I mentioned how much I love him? Viewing the story through his eyes,  I can’t help but to exclaim: “You did what? Holy crap! Why didn’t I think of that?”

I’m pretty pissy about how female protagonists are commonly portrayed in literature and media etc. Maybe don’t get me started on the portrayal of mothers. But then, I’m equally pissy about how ‘good’ men are depicted, with traits that someone seems to think makes them desirable. Brutish does not = manly and ‘bodies as hard as stone’ is perplexing. The worst thing about camping is sleeping on a rock-hard floor; why would I want to… 🙂 I think my ‘his’ story might just need to be told. Apparently, so does he. If so, he’s got to wait for the next two books to come out first.

Anyway, it was amazing to write like that again. To feel awe over what I’m discovering as I, in essence, transcribe. And it was a kick in the ass to stop worrying. My writing mode isn’t going anywhere. There’s a lot more waiting to be let out.

Just not write now (haha), as I need to make up for bad-procrastinating-mother mode and work on Halloween costumes.