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[personal profile] mmegaera
Charley and I are seriously stuck again. I know why, and I know at least half of it is my phobia about climaxes (the literary type, *not* the other kind, so would you like a hand climbing out of that gutter? (g)). I have yet, in six manuscripts, to write a climactic scene or set of scenes or chapters that doesn't feel rushed or too abbreviated or otherwise goofed up. It's like once I get to that point I just want to get it over with, and I really don't want to do that with this book since I've worked on it for so long, but I can't seem to help myself.

Writing is at least as superstitious an occupation as baseball (of course, 99% of my baseball "knowledge" has been gleaned from Bull Durham and A League of Their Own, so take that FWIW).

That and while I know what we've been leading up to for quite some time, it just doesn't seem *enough,* somehow. Not enough oomph. And Charley, of course, feels like he's been through enough already, thankyouverymuch, so he's not talking.

Literary constipation is an ugly thing.

On the other hand, I've been pulling an Ekaterin in the garden (weeds laid out in a row like tiny corpses, OWTTE), so it's in good shape, and the Bears in the Woods quilt is coming along nicely.

Sublimation is an ugly thing, too, darnit.

On the gripping hand, my irises and clematis are just starting to bloom...

Grrr...
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