November. I'm wearing socks today, for the first time in a long while. I guess it's time - on the way in to work this morning I saw people breathing steamy white clouds of breath. Like it or not, something chilly this way comes.
On the weekend I managed just about 2000 words, putting me at nearly halfway to my skinny first draft year-end goal. Looking at the overall word count and comparing it to to the events I've already written, I am thinking about pacing. I am trying NOT to think about pacing. Or structure. At all.
What I want to do this time is JUST WRITE the story - front to back, start to finish. This is an exercise in trusting myself, letting my subconscious guide me in an effort not to get all caught up in the things that are not writing. Index cards. Outlines. That stuff. I hang myself with that stuff.
However, I catch myself holding a few events back. There are some juicy bits waiting to be revealed, and I am hoarding them, hiding them. I think I need to release them into the story, so they can become a part of the fabric of the thing. That's what I love about writing this way - I'm never stuck. What happens now grows into what happens next, instead of me already knowing what's next, and twisting my plot into a mobius strip trying to get x y z in order.
So I hope you had a Happy Halloween. Put your pen on the paper and follow your heart!