Halfway through a sex scene, I realized I couldn't go on. Not because I was having difficulty writing it, but because it felt wrong. This wasn't supposed to happen, so I had to go back and delete about 5 pages (and by delete I mean cut and paste into a new document called "Alternate Scenes," hehe)
But that hurt! It hurt so bad! You know that feeling when you have to rip a band-aid off really quick? Well like that, but instead of ripping a band-aid you're ripping skin. (Too graphic?) I was sad, angry, and frustrated. I wanted to cry, pull my hair, hurt someone, and I sat down and questioned why it is I want to be a writer. Every time I opened my journal to write, the fact that I lost 5 pages would come back and mess with my head. I was scared to write. What if I wrote another 5 pages and it didn't fit either. It was stressful and scary.
But slowly I began to write. I spent the week writing at work in my journal, and when I got home I still wrote on it. I refused to type it up because I didn't want to obsess over my word count, which is something I do when I'm writing on the laptop. And I got most of my original word count back (I'm about 200 words away). Not only that, but these 5 new pages move the story along much quicker, and I think I'm actually going to finish this story sooner than expected. And it's going to be shorter, too, by at least 5000 words.
So I'm still going at it. Slow, at least for me it feels slow. But I am making progress, even if it feels like I'm not a lot of the time.
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