Moments.

We're all allowed them right? I felt this moment building up until--until I just had to do something to get rid of it.

I was working on Halo and I got stuck. I didn't want to admit that I had gotten stuck. I didn't want to admit of after MONTHS of working on this that I had reached the point of...nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Maybe it's because I let the work sit after I lost the baby and up to the weeks of losing the pregnancy and I lost the immediacy of the work. I don't know. Whatever it was, I just plain old LOST it.

I sat there at the table writing and then tearing out the page and starting again. I couldn't concentrate. I was thinking about the huge argument I had with Eric and how I will still stinging from that. I was thinking about how much I couldn't stand this city. I was getting annoyed because my daughter kept taking off her diaper. I was annoyed that it was hot and I had gotten my period and... I just cried.

I kept saying "I can't do this. I can't freaking do this." And I took all that work and I tore it to shreds because it was crap...utter crap and I knew it was. The magic was gone. It felt like work. I was writing because I 'had' to...not because I had to. Crystal's advice was ringing in my ears and...I had a moment.

I had a moment of just wanting to give up and just...quit. I had to sit on the couch with my face covered and just..cry. And Israel, bless her heart, thought I wanted to play peek-a-boo. I got it together in under five minutes. I took a breath. Closed my eyes--and I started over.

I realized that I was so bent on writing it a certain way that I DIDN'T realize it wasn't working for me anymore.

I was angry because I did ALL that work...only to start over. I was angry because really, my future and my daughter's future is riding on this. Not JUST this...but it's a big part of it. I was angry because it feels like it comes so EASY to everyone else.

I was angry because I read a seriously BADLY written book and it got published, but I'm just not willing to lower my standards.

I was angry because the only thing that I am a perfectionist about is my writing and...and...and I was just angry.


I had to *breaaaaaaatttheeeee* and let it go.

So I think I'm alright now. The writing gods have smiled upon me, because within a half hour of my outburst, it came back. I'm cautiously optimistic.



In other news, last night I dreamt that I went to Nathan Bransford's office in Cali...IN my pajamas and manuscript to ask him some really DUMB question like "Do you prefer email submissions or snail mail" and my daughter was with me--and she took off her diaper and peed on his floor.

Then I told him "Happy Birthday" and he was like "Okay."

Look, it's way too random for me to make up.