Writer's block - Mate Run: Cherise
The struggle is real, and I did it to myself. Usually, my biggest issue is finding time to write. When the words stop flowing, there's usually a reason. This time it happened on chapter 11, halfway into the book. I finally have the hero and heroine under the same roof. Got out a page and a half of material and then... Crickets. Nothing. Nada. I'm on a deadline, so I don't have time to play around with this.
After mulling it over a few days, I started again at the beginning of chapter 11, reading what I wrote. I deleted a few paragraphs. Rearranged the order of a few more. This morning, inspiration struck. I wrote two and a half pages of new material. I didn't delete what was there before. My hope is to integrate it in with the new. Waste not want not. With God's help, I'll meet my deadline to have Cherise's edited and released on 5/31.
For those curious, here is part of what got deleted:
(Noah's POV) The antiquated furnace needed more work than I normally had time to devote to it. I hadn’t gotten around to doing my yearly winter preparation and maintenance. It got bumped up on my to do list.
Fortunately, I chopped wood year round. There were more than enough cords to get us through this early snow. I just hoped this wasn’t an indicator of how the rest of winter would be. If so, January and February would be brutal.
At the back door, I paused to put on my jacket. There were two cords of wood situated on the back porch on either side of the door. I just needed to bring them inside. As soon as I opened the door, frigid air swept inside. I gritted my teeth as icy wind lashed my face. Damn, it wasn’t just snow. This was an ice storm. Mentally, I kissed my plans of heading into town later today goodbye. I’d hoped to introduce Cherice around and see if she and any of my men had an immediate spark. That would have to wait.
Before hauling in the wood, I pinned up the insulated tarps I used to minimize the amount of wind and snow that blew onto the porch during the winter season. Moving quickly, I filled the wood boxes in the kitchen, den, main bathroom and my bedroom, and started fires in each to knock the chill off the house.
When I finished, the battery operated clock told me it was almost six in the morning. I filled a kettle with water and put it on the woodstove to boil. I filled the water compartment on the heating attachment I’d built, making a mental note to also fill the one upstairs in the bathroom. Between the two we’d have more than enough hot water to bathe and complete household chores.
Another glance at the clock showed the morning was getting away from me. I jogged up the wooden stairs without even a carpet runner to soften it. This home was my retreat away from the world. I had another house I lived in during once the spring thaw set in. Living isolated away from the clan in town meant giving up many of the luxuries afforded to me as leader. It also afforded me the peace and quiet I couldn’t get in town. The phone didn’t ring. No one knocked on the door. There was no dispute to settle or laws to enforce.
Every winter the clan mothers urged me to take a woman. They couldn’t stand the idea of me being up here alone. Thought I needed a woman to take care of me, provide a touch of softness in my life, and comfort in my bed. However, I was more than capable of doing for myself and didn’t need some woman catering to my every need.
Some men were born to lead and thrived on the challenge. Others, like myself, were thrust into the role and took it because there was no one else. I led the clan and in return, they gave me winter to myself. Otherwise, I’d be a homicidal maniac. Despite our agreement, the women continued to push me to mate. I believe they thought without a woman to anchor me here, one day I’d up and leave. As if. Where would I go? For better or worse, this was home and had been for generations.
After mulling it over a few days, I started again at the beginning of chapter 11, reading what I wrote. I deleted a few paragraphs. Rearranged the order of a few more. This morning, inspiration struck. I wrote two and a half pages of new material. I didn't delete what was there before. My hope is to integrate it in with the new. Waste not want not. With God's help, I'll meet my deadline to have Cherise's edited and released on 5/31.
For those curious, here is part of what got deleted:
(Noah's POV) The antiquated furnace needed more work than I normally had time to devote to it. I hadn’t gotten around to doing my yearly winter preparation and maintenance. It got bumped up on my to do list.
Fortunately, I chopped wood year round. There were more than enough cords to get us through this early snow. I just hoped this wasn’t an indicator of how the rest of winter would be. If so, January and February would be brutal.
At the back door, I paused to put on my jacket. There were two cords of wood situated on the back porch on either side of the door. I just needed to bring them inside. As soon as I opened the door, frigid air swept inside. I gritted my teeth as icy wind lashed my face. Damn, it wasn’t just snow. This was an ice storm. Mentally, I kissed my plans of heading into town later today goodbye. I’d hoped to introduce Cherice around and see if she and any of my men had an immediate spark. That would have to wait.
Before hauling in the wood, I pinned up the insulated tarps I used to minimize the amount of wind and snow that blew onto the porch during the winter season. Moving quickly, I filled the wood boxes in the kitchen, den, main bathroom and my bedroom, and started fires in each to knock the chill off the house.
When I finished, the battery operated clock told me it was almost six in the morning. I filled a kettle with water and put it on the woodstove to boil. I filled the water compartment on the heating attachment I’d built, making a mental note to also fill the one upstairs in the bathroom. Between the two we’d have more than enough hot water to bathe and complete household chores.
Another glance at the clock showed the morning was getting away from me. I jogged up the wooden stairs without even a carpet runner to soften it. This home was my retreat away from the world. I had another house I lived in during once the spring thaw set in. Living isolated away from the clan in town meant giving up many of the luxuries afforded to me as leader. It also afforded me the peace and quiet I couldn’t get in town. The phone didn’t ring. No one knocked on the door. There was no dispute to settle or laws to enforce.
Every winter the clan mothers urged me to take a woman. They couldn’t stand the idea of me being up here alone. Thought I needed a woman to take care of me, provide a touch of softness in my life, and comfort in my bed. However, I was more than capable of doing for myself and didn’t need some woman catering to my every need.
Some men were born to lead and thrived on the challenge. Others, like myself, were thrust into the role and took it because there was no one else. I led the clan and in return, they gave me winter to myself. Otherwise, I’d be a homicidal maniac. Despite our agreement, the women continued to push me to mate. I believe they thought without a woman to anchor me here, one day I’d up and leave. As if. Where would I go? For better or worse, this was home and had been for generations.
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