So, I’ve developed this fun new habit in the last month or
so, where I stop writing mid-sentence, go do something else, then come back and
expect my brain to remember exactly where I was going with the beginning of the
thought.
Fun revelation? My brain never remembers. And it becomes my
own personal mid-season cliff hanger.
“Desperation hung heavier than the humidity, but he”That’s it? No, that can’t be it. There has to be something more because I don’t know what he did. What did he do?!?
And then, as it does with TV shows, my mind starts running
through possible outcomes to the situation.
Maybe he – No, that doesn’t make sense with what happened a couple pages ago. I know that I always wanted him to – but, I decided that wasn’t going to work awhile back. Didn’t I? It can’t work. Not after what happened in chapter 10. So, it’s got to be something else.
Round and round I go, until I generally reach the point
where chucking the sentence and writing a new one is the best option. Hopefully
the new sentence is better, but I’ll never really know.
And the worst part? When I think back on the things that I stopped
mid-sentence for, they’re always ridiculous. The need to check Twitter was so
overpowering it couldn’t be postponed for five or six words? Did I really need
a soda refill right that very second? I couldn't wait five minutes to dodge than falling meteor? (That last one sounds urgent. But no excuses. Finish the sentences you start.)
I don’t know why this started exactly and as of right now, I’m
choosing to chalk it up to my preoccupation with being done with all Christmas
shopping by Thanksgiving (total fail, by the way). At least that is what I’m hoping
it is, because otherwise I
Whoops. Went to get some candy. Not sure what I'm doing "otherwise." Let's just assume it was something witty, shall we?
Tonight’s Christmas
Viewing:
- “The Man in the Fallout Shelter” (Bones)
- “The One with Phoebe’s Dad” (Friends)
- Snowglobe
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