Currently listening to Jason Isabell--The Devil Is My Running Mate.
Today it took me two hours to write 600 words.
For the record, I'm a pretty speedy typer, so it wasn't the mechanics holding me back. Nope, it was the unflexed writing muscle. Unfortunately I've been on a bit of a self-inflicted writing hiatus ever since the new year rolled around. I've got this pesky thing called a thesis that REALLY needs some attention. Like, if it's not done in the next six weeks, I don't graduate in May. *cue panic here*
Given options, I'd much rather write from-my-head fiction than thesis fact. (Yeah, hybrid zones, I hate you.) Rather inconveniently, my fiction writing isn't looking to pay my bills any time soon, so thesis it is. (Why I'm in a science master's program is anyone's guess. 'Cuz I've got absolutely no friggin' clue.)
Anyway. I made myself a deal--No novel until the dreaded thesis is done.
I've already broken that contract, of course.
Citing good behavior (I've been studying and generally being super--and unnaturally--productive), I gave myself a little reprieve today.
Too bad it sucked.
The 600 words today were a struggle of epic proportions. Were they epic words?--oh hell no. But perhaps they were functional. I'm afraid to reread them, so I can't tell. I'm not the type of writer who can go for extended periods of no writing without it showing. It's painful, really. But hopefully it'll be over soon and I can get back into the groove.
Only six more weeks to go.
How's your writing going?