So how’s a gal supposed to write when her eyes needs cold compresses?
Hot ‘n Haunting is going well. I’m pleased with it, but just when I can see the finish line, someone moves the tape. I know the ending. It plays like a movie in my brain. But unlike movies, which move fast, novels get tied up with pages and pages of dialogue and description. There's simply no short cut. I can’t get to the finish without following the trail up and down the hills and over the obstacles.
Gee, that’s sounds a lot like the Mud Run I recently finished, doesn’t it. Funny thing, the Mud Run had now become my touchstone. My point of reference when things get tough.
“If I can finish the damn Mud Run, then I can [fill in the blank].”If I can finish the damn Mud Run, then I can finish Hot 'n Haunting, in spite of wanting to skewer both eyes with knitting needles.