(Great song by Cage the Elephant, fyi.)
Newsflash: writing a book is HARD WORK.
I have a very good friend who is also a compulsive writer like me, and the last couple days our shared sentiment has been, why do we do this to ourselves again? Oh yeah, because we can't help it.
So my Nano novel has gotten a major makeover, a la What Not to Wear. You know, if books were style, and mine was 80's sequins and detachable shoulder pads. There were too many stirrup pants and blindingly geometric acid trips, if you know what I mean. You don't? Yeah, fashion probably doesn't make the best metaphor for writing.
Evan and I talked about my new ideas for the book for a couple hours last night, during which I scribbled on post-its until I thought my hand was on fire. Then I slept on it.
And spent almost all day today thinking about improvements to those ideas, Googling random phrases somehow related to my thought process, and actually putting new words down into my sketchbook, which used to have pictures in it, but now has my madcap notes for this poor tortured book (and a dorky doodle of a crocodile on a character profile. Don't ask why.)
So I'm back to a semi-post apocalyptic feel, which is where I wanted to be in the original Nano version. Throw in some very artistically-licensed twists to some ancient folklore and a grumpy protagonist, and you've got my current evolution of Eternal Spring. Which now needs a new working title.
This is all going more slowly than I'd like still, because if I thought typing hurt/tired my wrist, writing by hand is a whole new level of pain and limited endurance. Unfortunately, I really like having my plot and character sketches on paper, not just in the word processor.
Physical therapy, please come soon!