I went to my cafe this morning to get some writing done before heading to work in the afternoon. The plan was to get there for 11am, but I waffled around at home and it was closer to noon before I got there. I got the nice corner seat facing the window, and I sat in the comfy chair with my cup of tea and no focus whatsoever.
The night before, I spent some time brainstorming about a character who existed as a feeling and a vague outline. The goal for this morning was to actually write some of the backstory between him and the other character in the story. I wanted to write it like a proper scene – it may never get used, but it’s a worthwhile exercise anyway. I just couldn’t settle down to it, though. I don’t think I put much more than 100 words down on the page in an hour and a half.
At 1:30 I gave myself permission to fail and headed home. The demons in my brain who believe I can’t write fiction had a field day with this.
This afternoon, though, I had some music on while I was doing some freelance proof reading. And Adele’s Someone Like You provided sudden inspiration. The story I was struggling with this morning flipped in my head, character motivations became clearer, and I have a good idea how to attack a new scene.
The next two days are, of course, jammed with life things, but when I next get to head to my cafe, I know where to start.