Quick, grab the life saver and swim to shore. I’ll explain everything once we’re back on dry land. Watch out! There comes another tsunami of words to drown us out. Swim, swim for your sanity!
Phew. We made it. I’ve been drowning in b.s. all week and it has been a struggle without you to make sense of my words. Paddling in the shallows would have been fine but now that I’m stuck in the deep end of my book, I can’t seem to navigate a safe route home. Sometimes company keeps one sane in situations like this. Enough of my babble. Let’s warm ourselves by the proverbial editorial fire and I will try to explain my nonsensical text.
I’m drowning. The book that was supposed to be complete by now is not even close to a finished product. With no depth or decent threats to my characters, it’s like reading the altar boy’s version of a Ladybird’s Peter and Jane story. Strange to admit but, the more I write, the more detail I want. Unfortunately, my mind refuses to produce something decent, so I sit there, watching the words lilt and flow just out of reach. While we sit here, sipping from our mugs, munching on oat biscuits (slathered in chocolate of course!), I can feel my characters relishing in my discomfort and laughing their annoying little heads off.
Maybe I should whittle a better vessel plot for my story to hunt down those infernal Moby Dick concepts, but to do so I will need more time, more input, which is not forthcoming. And yes, I know – patience. Who has time for that when another tsunami of b.s. threatens to break my weakening barriers of common sense in a book promising to wash away any good plot that might survive?
I don’t know. Let’s see what the morning tide brings.