Joel’s Journal – 12/03/2015

20150926-_JJW8773The cursor flashes at me incessantly, just daring me to type a word, any word, he already knew it wasn’t going to be good enough and he’d be able to swallow it back up again.

I turn the music up louder, close my eyes and try and forget everything that is swimming around inside my head.

The idea I want is there, like a beautiful girl in a red dress, I can’t take my inner eye off her, but she’s standing in a mob of people.

All these other ideas are swarming around her and I can’t get a good enough glimpse to really describe her, or take her hand to pull her free.

The music doesn’t work and I slam the laptop shut and throw off the sheets. I forget that my iPhone isn’t in my pocket, because I’m only wearing track pants, and the headphones rip from my ears as I get up from the bed.

Shaking my head to ease the frustration I sit at my table and pour another cup of tea, cursing myself that I still haven’t bought any coffee.

The cup was lucky it didn’t end up across the room.

It was a rough morning.

I’m stuck. I knew it was going to happen eventually, when you write like I do, no plot lines, no plans, things can’t flow forever without a hitch. I’m just having a serious problem with what I have to do with the story.

As I’ve said before, when you write about these fictional people every morning they start to grow on you, you fall on in love with them. And any normal human being hates hurting the ones they love.

My female character is about to go through an absolutely horrible experience and, for one, I don’t know what that experience is going to be, and two, I don’t want to write it.

It’s key to the plot, this part of the story has to happen. Yet, I’m worried that I’m not going to write it the way I should because I don’t want to write it in the first place.

And it’s all these distracting thoughts that are keeping me from reaching that idea, that woman in the red dress, stuck in the middle of the crowd. If I could only grab her hand she’d have the answer, but I can’t.

Standing up from the table I push my hands through my hair, gripping the back of my head like I could pull the ugly thoughts out the back.

Instead, I went and had a shower and tried to close my mind. Perhaps that woman in the red dress would find her way through the crowd on her own.

Thanks for reading,

J.J.W.