The Hardest Thing in the World

Writing is the hardest thing in the world.

I didn’t think that when I started writing at the age of 5, but I often think that now. Some days, I feel like I’m pulling my toe nails out (don’t spend too much time visualizing it) simply to write 500 words.

My daughter is 6 weeks old, so I’m officially past “maternity leave.” Which means I’m back to the grind on my steampunk novel. Every day I must write at least 500 words. It’s not very much, and once I hit the 500 mark it often gets easier to write another 200 or 400 words. But it’s something I have to force myself to do, to push through on a daily basis. Since I’m at 15,000 words, if I keep it up, I’ll easily be done with this draft by the end of February, and potentially by the end of January.

I much prefer when I have a full draft and I get to revise, even though I know I’ll be rewriting most sentences.

But I should stop stalling. I’ve written 330 words, and have 170 words more to go before I’m allowed to go to bed. I even know what I’m going to write–I just have to buckle down and do it.