I went on a trip on a train. I played my role as devoted, loving partner and got a little time with my Love. I found my story on the train ride back. I can’t write anything else.
Now I’m stuck on 4000 words. Approximately 180,000 words according to King’s book On Writing, and I’m stuck at 4000. I don’t know if it’s being off my routine so long, the stress at work, or being away from M and all that is comforting, but I can’t get the rest out. When I try, my head hurts. Yet I don’t have anything else that feels worth writing.
In my slump I find that when I can’t look at the screen and see the story my next inclination is to slither into slothfulness. I even turned on the stupid box today. Feels like I’m losing.