Though I’m sure we all reach that point sometimes. I’m suddenly reminded of an old monologue I was once assigned in my high school theater class about a writer struggling with writer’s block. I don’t think the teacher even knew I was a writer, and it was the most ironic thing.
At the end of the monologue, he finds his muse again. I’m tempted to go look for that monologue, since I’m sure I saved it somewhere.
But writing…it just feels like a chore lately. Not poetry, mind you; that usually comes easiest to me.
And with this second vampire novel in the balance, I feel like I have to fight myself to make it the best that it possibly can be. It has to surpass the first, and every next book has to surpass the one before it. I’m on a mission to evoke a world within my writing, and that’s perhaps the single most difficult feat of any author.
The most intimidating part of this is that the only person I’m in competition with is myself. I’m not trying to be “the greatest” or greater than any other author. I’m trying to be greater than myself, and maybe that’s why this seems so difficult.
I’m not letting it flow naturally. It all just feels forced, like there’s no heart to any of it, and that’s what bothers me most of all. The first part is golden. I swept through that prologue and first couple chapters like I was the vampire who just woke up and fed and felt extremely refreshed with literary vigor. Nigel’s narrative voice changed from that of a sad, solemn creature at the end of the first book to someone on the verge of discovering that which he had been seeking for the last decade. I was even amazed at his power.
Then he delves back into the past, a subject he doesn’t want to discuss, until he finds the right person…which he does. Then it turned sour as I slammed into Part I like it was a Nazi blockade on the outskirts of Le Havre and suddenly, the group of Orphans could go no further.
Why? What happened? It was the exact same spot I’d originally planned on continuing from in the first book, before the first book became way too long and I decided to cut it short so it wouldn’t be the length of a dictionary. The drawback, however, is that I ended up adding a whole shit ton of other elements and characters into the second book to keep it interesting.
I feel overwhelmed. I have way too much that goes into this book. A lot happens, perhaps too much. And then there’s my outline. What happens between the lines of that? I plot all these scenes, but I have no clue how to get from point A to point B right now without making it sound really cheesy. Or at least it sounds cheesy to me.
I keep on wondering how on earth I ever conceived of this idea. I wish I knew. I wish it could write itself sometimes. This series is too big, too epic. Maybe I’ll just start writing paragraphs when I feel inspired and join them together later. At least that way, I’ll be doing something for this story instead of letting it rot away in the dark corners of my mind.
Oh Purgatory Road. I’ll finish you sometime. I have to.
PS: I'm pushing back The Orphaned Ones for a possible August release. It's going to be in paperback form only at first, but when I have it up on Kindle, I'm going to give it away free for the first 2 months or so. I'm not sure exactly how long, but I really REALLY want to get my work out there, so I'll have a freebie of some sort for everyone, just so people are more likely to check it out.
And if they really like it, then they can always buy the paperback, which I'm going to price at $12 simply because I put a lot more work and some small illustrations into it.