You know I write every single day. Today I pondered yesterday's post about "writer's suckingness." Then I pondered another post I wrote about tools I use: Index Cards. You can probably see where this is going.
When I finished my freewriting this morning, I busted out the index cards and got busy on this short story I'm working on. I wrote a single line about each "point" in the story. Soon, a dozen cards lay before me on the top of our firewood box (the only clear surface in this house, so help me). I shuffled them around, changed the order of a few things... and wrote 5 more cards.
In other words, the story was missing an entire third of itself! The things overlooked were really poignant. I wept. Filled partly with relief and partly with renewed grief over those topics that must be addressed and weren't, I did cry a little.
Here's hoping writer's suckingness will no longer affect this particular story. It really deserves more...
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