Wednesday night my writing slowed down. The first time that happened, I kind of ignored it and tried to push forward. Just get the words down. That's all that mattered. Well, guess what? It matters to my writing. When the story slows down, and it's not toward the end, then I made a wrong turn. Forcing the words doesn't help.
So this time I stopped and thought (which usually means I sleep on it). The scene I had written would be great if it was close to the end, but I'm not near the end. I can't have the eventual happy couple be happy when I had over 30,000 words left to write. Luckily I woke up with the answer. Of course, at the time I thought it was a minor fix and I wouldn't have to erase the five pages I wrote the previous day. Then I started fixing the scene and realized it all had to go. 1250 words went bye-bye (although I replaced most of them already). I'm not sure if I'm on the right track still, but at least the words are flowing.
It's times like these that really give me the confidence to continue writing.
It's also times like these I wish I didn't need the paying job.
Can you hear me sighing?