You write a scene and know instantly that it’s wrong. You re-write. Nope, that doesn’t feel right either. You re write again.Nope. You take a break. It’s a little scene, not even a page long but critical. It affects the entire rest of the book. You are writing a small exchange between two characters, neither like you in personality. This leaves you feeling like you are adrift in the sea with nothing to connect to. You take another break, this time for a week. You come back. It’s so wrong, you decide being an author is stupid. You walk away….forever.
You come back with a plan to write the novel but will ignore that scene. The next song plays on YouTube and the mood of those characters creeps into your soul. You put the song on loop and your mouse moves you to that page. You start the scene fresh, the music plays, the cat doesn’t interrupt and you type. It completes in a single sweep then stop to reread. It reads perfect and tears drip down your cheeks, you have it right. It’s perfect. And you sit staring at the page. There it is, you imagined it, you crafted it, and you wrote it. And it’s perfect. You walk off to get tissue.