I sat at my desk tonight fully intending to write my synopsis. Instead I ended up going through my blogfriendies stuff, delighted with all the magnificent posts, and burned through an hour of (what would’ve been) writing time. So much for “intentions,” eh?
It’s not that I’m lazy or procrastinating my synopsis writing. No, not at all. The root of my delay is much more feral and intrinsic than that: I am scared shitless of it. Not that I fear the haunting of my keyboard or the strange noises that are produced in my house after everyone has gone to bed and the lights are dim (and autonomously twinkling) here in the room. I should probably have that looked at by an electrician, or a priest. Whatever. Instead, what I do fear is that I will be unable to capture the essence of my story in those pages. There, I said it. It's really that simple.
I know I will. I know I have to. I know you all will tell me to quit my bitching, and probably offer some cheese with my whine… so thank you (in advance). I simply felt the need to put this in writing, and send it out into the unforgetting and unforgiving internet and not feel that my evening was a total waste. At least I got caught up with my neglected fellow bloggies, found some new folks to follow on twitter and scoured facebook. Yeah, I’m totally on top of my synopsis game, aren’t I?
Curse you novel. I love you, but you are so much damn work.