This post has been brought to you by River of Dreams, one of my least favorite Billy Joel songs, but the one which is currently stuck in my head because it starts with, "In the middle of the night..." And...it's the middle of the night. Do you see the connection?
It's also been brought to you by the child Zoe, who has in her little body the power to make or break a night for the entire household. Tonight, she broke it when she suddenly refused to go to bed, and had an Exorcist-style meltdown that left Charles and me reeling. And even though she finally fell asleep around 8:30, she then woke up at midnight and started in with the "Mommy, I want you"s.
And if there's any phrase that's over-used in this house, it's "Mommy, I want you."
You know, I get it. The whole time she was sick last week, I was giving her Benadryl at night. Several doctors have told me through the years that is the best nighttime cough suppressant for little ones who are too young for...well...codeine. And I get that tonight was her first night without it, so she is lacking in that warm, fuzzy, sleepy feeling Benadryl supplies. She's coming down off her little addiction.
But still. I finally caught up on sleep over the past couple nights. If I go back in that hole, I'm not going to be happy.
So there's that.
But I digress.
The main point of this post isn't to whine about how it's 1 a.m. and I'm wide awake. Really, I want to talk about the great big task of Starting Book Two.
I've always known there was at least a Book 2 to my little zombie novel. The vast majority of the overarching story line is there, and I like how it's going to progress.
However, it's only been in the last couple of days that I've had full, detailed scenes pop into my head, and then refuse to leave. Scenes I already love, and am excited to write.
And then tonight, I realized. Even though I'm on my break from Book One, I'm not writing those scenes that float deliciously around in my head. I'm leaving them there to fester, even though tonight in particular it would have been a GREAT outlet for my stress-i-ness (since Charles hasn't yet bought me that punching bag I keep requesting, and yoga only goes so far towards tension release). Instead, tonight, I caught up on The Walking Dead (which is finally moving along this season), and the rest of the Internets. I poked around on a list-serve for pitch critiques. I emailed a few people. You know, in general, I procrastinated.
It finally hit me WHY I can't write those scenes.
Because...dun dun dun...it's a big committment to actually sit down and Start Book Two. Huge, in fact. When I started novel-ing last year, I had NO IDEA how big of a task it truly was to write a whole book, so starting was easy. I wasn't ever going to actually FINISH, right?
Now I know how long it will take, I know that I'll finish, and it's making the whole "stare at a blank document" thing THAT much harder.
Because I know! I know what I'm getting myself into, and it's intimidating.
I guess I have to process THAT information for the next day or so, or else convince myself...one scene? Not so much a committment. Maybe when I get to three or four, that's the time to worry.
So maybe I just have to start.
In other news, after almost a year and a half of going without, we have purchased a new dishwasher for my house! It should be delivered/installed before Thanksgiving, which is lucky because, well, we're hosting! Hooray!