I had this week all sorted – Wednesday and Thursday were writing days, and then I’d be working Friday, Saturday, Sunday and in the evenings watching True Blood (Hubby will be away).
Then on Tuesday evening, just an hour before work finished, Nicole the Clutz struck again. I tripped over a pallet jack and in trying to stop my head from collecting the edge of the freezer, I almost wrenched my arm out of the socket. Ouch.
“Yeah, it’s sore, but no major damage, I’ll be fine,” says I as I get up Wednesday morning, barely able to move said arm. I changed the position of my chair so my arm was more relaxed and got typing. An hour and a bit later, I gave up. Mucho, mucho pain.
So, the plan was revised. I spent Wednesday reading (and hot, and pissed off that I wasn’t writing cause it’s not like I’ve got all the time in the world to get these books done), and then had a terrible night’s sleep (a bad shoulder and bruised leg are not conducive to comfortable resting). Yesterday, I decided to continue with the change of plans, and I’m now actually getting excited that I have.
Instead of writing, yesterday, I watched the first seven episodes of True Blood. Verdict? Well, apart from the fact that Anna Pacquin is just too cute for her own good, Bill isn’t resonating with me. I don’t know, but his vampireness is toooo obvious, if that sounds strange. I’m a bit confused – are vampires immediately recognisable, or not? I could go with the pale skin – what got me was the dark, brooding looks. The moment he walked in the bar, and started looking around, all dark and brooding, and then locked eyes with Sookie, my brain was screaming ‘vampire, vampire’. And those looks are sooo dark and brooding and, well dammit creepy, that I’m now having issues seeming him as the sex symbol he’s supposed to be. Will be interesting to see if he wins me over by the end of the series.
Instead of watching Sookie and Co after work today and tomorrow, I’m gonna try and write. I generally don’t write on the days that I’ve worked (unless I’ve got a late shift and so I write in the morning before hand). I’ve convinced myself I’m tired, and I’ve done my work for the day. Well now, I’m going to test those assumptions. If it turns out I can write after a day at work – will that free me up? Will inspiration come more easily if my mind knows it doesn’t have to wait a day or two or more before I’ll open up the novel? I’m looking forward to finding out.
I’m also looking forward to the scene coming up – the romance is heating up, baby! I LOVE this part of the book.