I've been more than a little concerned that after a couple months of editing I'd have a hard time switching back to writing. They're two different animals, two different ways of thinking. Whatever you want to call it, I was afraid I'd have trouble switching gears.
My plan for today was to expand my opening couple paragraphs to give the reader a better look at my new world. I'd taken a few notes over the past week and the ideas have been bouncing around, but when I opened the Word document, fear gripped me. What if I've said all I can? What if I'm not really a writer, just someone with 95K words to get off her chest?
I put on some music - one of the same albums I listened to while writing over the fall - and the words just streamed out of me. Two whole pages. And since I've been editing so much lately I was able to step away for a few minutes, then come back and make it better. My story opens on the balcony of our condo so I went out there for inspiration. After a few swivels in my new chair I ran back to the computer and finished up the introduction.
I already sent the pages to my readers and of course I'm anxious to hear what they think. I have to leave in a couple hours and I can't expect them to get back to me that quickly, but I never claimed to be a patient person.
Tomorrow: the conclusion.