Lots of people have insomnia every once in a while. Stress about work, family, health, etc. will keep you awake, pondering in the dark. Me? I have one of those minds that refuses to turn off when the lights go out. But I’m not worried about work, family or health. My head is filled with questions about my current work in progress, questions like these:
1. Have I used that name for a character in a different book? It seems familiar.
2. How could I only write one paragraph today? At this pace, I’ll never hit The End.
3. Should I even keep this chapter? Or is it as bad as I’m afraid it is?
4. Is it any wonder all the “great” writers drank or did drugs?
5. If I quit this insanity tomorrow, how soon would I miss it?
6. What if I changed the dog to a cat? Or a lizard? Would that be funnier?
7. Crap. Did I commit to participate in a book event on a family holiday? (For the record, yes. A local author library signing. On Greek Easter. Gonna have to cancel one of them.)
8. Wouldn’t it be great if I could just lock myself in a hotel room for a month until I finished this book?
9. Maybe I should change my title?
10. Okay, I left my characters here doing this. What happens next?
These days, I’m working on two books at once, and one of those books has two story lines. That’s a lot to keep track of, and a lot to keep me up at night!
11. Do you think it will be worth it?
When I finally type The End on these two books, I’ll sleep well. For about three days. Then, that pesky muse of mine will start enticing me with a new story idea, and the cycle will begin all over again.