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How A Horse Saved My Mojo
The ride that spurred me to write
My writing had hit the wall. I was in a slump, blocked, my creative well echoing and empty. Every writer goes through this, I told myself. Just keep going and you’ll get beyond it.
And I did. I slogged away on a draft of a novel, keeping up a one-or-two-thousand word per day pace, mostly so I could be done with it. I had promised myself I would finish, so I batted away at the keyboard while my enthusiasm for the project and my connection to the story sputtered and dimmed.
The voice of my inner critic, which I worked hard to ignore, ratcheted up its volume to an earsplitting shrill. You’ve lost the thread, it said. Another long passage of dialogue? Is there EVER going to be any action in this thing? You’ve already used that verb twice. What are you, vocabulary challenged? And what happened to that subplot about the camel thief? This is a waste of time.
I didn’t quit, I’ll give myself that. When I got past the eighty thousand word mark and clawed my way to the ending I’d had in mind from the beginning, I called it good. Well, not good, but done. I had persevered, like all the writing wisdom I’ve ever come across advises.
According to that same wisdom, I should celebrate getting to The End, with the full realization that it’s only a rough draft…
