I realized some (smallish, but important) things that needed to be tweaked in the Big Backstory of the Nightcraft universe, which necessitated changing pieces of a few scenes in chapters 1 and 2.
So I did that.
Then I started writing the new scene that needs to go at the front of chapter 3 (while trying not to look at the existing scene which starts chapter 3, which is not only horribly overwritten, but also needs to go rather later in the book) (creating its own whole cascade of ancillary changes) (which I am totally not thinking about now) (see me not thinking about that lalala).
I got two pages into it, and it felt dead and wooden and pointless. “Here, listen to this,” I said, and read it to Mark. “What’s wrong with it?”
“Well, you’re dancing around all the real issues, and focusing on the shopping and the meals and other boring stuff. Write what’s really happening. Like [thing] and [thing] and [thing].”
“Oh,” I said. “You’re right.” And, “That’s much harder.”
Yeah.
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So I am feeling sort of frustrated and stymied and slow. And then another thing I’ve been greatly looking forward to might be delayed so badly I might not even want to do it; and then there were other little frustrations; and, yeah I’m being vague, because it may all come to nothing, but I’m cranky and feeling like nothing ever happens like you think it will; and yeah, I know, I know. Just give me sympathy, please. This too shall pass.