Alright everybody, I’ve got a guest post for you today from Kate forest, the author of Interior Design and Other Emotions and Grounded. With NaNoWriMo going on, what she’s talking about is near and dear to my heart.

Writer’s Block? No, Writer’s Despair.

Generally, when I am finishing up a first draft I panic. Without a clear idea of what to write next, I decide that it’s time to throw in the towel, give up my writing life. I call my critique partner, Veronica Forand, and moan, “I have no more ideas. I don’t think I’ll write again. This is my last book.” Her response is usually to mumble something encouraging or tell me to shut up because I said that last time. (She really is supportive in some ways. There’s a reason I keep her around.)

But no, I insist. This is really it. I’m blank. Nothing is coming to mind. Oh, wait. I’ve got an idea. How about a story in which a woman touches a magical stone and goes back in time to Scotland? No, that’s been done. Ooh, here’s one. How about a modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice, only it will be in diary form. Ok, never mind.

But then this happens. On a rare day, I will get a decent night’s sleep. Not a measly 7 hours interrupted by a trip to the bathroom and the sound of the dog vomiting outside the bedroom door. I mean a gooood night’s sleep. One the ends when the alarm chimes, I stretch, gaze out the window at the sun just peeking above the trees, and smile. No cricks in my middle aged body and plenty of time to get everyone ready for school. And then BLAMO!

A pair of characters appears in my head. They are completely formed and I know exactly why they can never be together, but why they must fall in love and find some way of overcoming their personal and relational obstacles.

Sure, I have no idea what their plot is. Where and when will they live? What will the world and villains throw at them to keep them from their goals? Who the heck knows? That’s a problem to hash out with my critique partners. In that moment, I need to write pages and pages of notes as the ideas pour out.

Of course, by that time, there isn’t plenty of time to get everyone ready for school and the morning seems less serene. But my heart is filled with confidence and hope.  And with those tools, I can do anything. Even write another book.

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