I'm avoiding my w.i.p. Behold how seriously I am avoiding it.
I vacuumed the ceiling fan in my kitchen. Which led me to discover that the ceiling in my kitchen is rather dirty. So I began washing it.
In my kitchen.
I stopped halfway across it and realized. . . *ding* . . . I'm avoiding my story. So I climbed down off the ladder and promptly began vacuuming the floor. And doing the laundry. And reorganizing the bathroom linen closet.
All of this is better than staring at my computer screen and agonizing over this story and how it's so generic and muddled.
So now I have a half torn apart linen closet, half a clean kitchen ceiling and half the house swept, but no forward momentum on Brass In Pocket.
I have lovely ideas for my other stories, vying for my attention. But nothing to fix the mess I made of Brass. And no idea of what's prompting this avoidance.
So now I need to decide if I should put it away for a while and work on something new or continue to run my brain through a cheese grater as I fight with the tinkered mess that is chapters one through three of my w.i.p. (There are many more chapters, but I'm too linear to go there.)
What's a deranged girl to do?
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