Well that’s where I was. In bed looking at the cat who was watching me read Lydia Davis. The fireworks have stopped (for now) but my mind starts wandering (never a good thing late at night) so I think I might as well get up and write. Then I’m downstairs in the kitchen and the stove’s still warm and I make some coffee … I won’t ramble on, you (probably) know how it is.
It’s also day 6 / 7 of NaNo (looks at watch). No it’s definitely day 7 and I’ve written around 9,000 words so far. I was quite impressed with the first 6,000 and then got even more excited when I realised how themes and characters overlapped with what I wrote (and did nothing with) last year. So that’ll be something to think about in the edit. But today I stalled, so I gave myself what I call an *interlude* day when I let myself write about anything. I’m not a plot driven writer, ergo I don’t plan either.
However, these *interludes* often get me going again. Letting go of what I’m *supposed* to be writing about frees me up to produce (what I describe as) creative soup; a mix of found things and stuff I see or things that have happened during the day – or sometimes – a pure stream of consciousness response to just being. So that’s where I am today, having an interlude, a break from the story to bring something creative back into it all – and (literally) getting very cold feet in the kitchen at two o’clock in the morning.