Only a few days into the new year and I am already regretting some of the promises I made to myself. Specifically, this 100 push ups a day has been taxing. I am sore and struggling to do the work. I have 40 left today and it is almost 7pm. This goes to show you that what is good for you doesn’t always feel that good in the moment or even for weeks after.
Beyond that promise I have been struggling to get back into the novel. I left it in a spot where I could easily pick it up and move forward, but the issue I’ve been encountering is the utter poopiness of the story itself. It is not good. I’m hopeful that subsequent drafts will improve that part of it, but for now it seems to not be worth the write. Yet I endure.
The story is simple and fairly straightforward, which I am starting to see as a limitation of my writing. It doesn’t have any deeper issues to unveil or surprises and the character himself feels rather one dimensional. I expect to work on that part of things in this next chapter.
Perhaps the problem is that he still feels like a lot of my male antagonists do: A version of my younger self dealing with the kind of mental hurdles I felt I went through at that age and likely never got past. Perhaps the writing then is a catharsis and once I get through it I can move on to other things.
Perhaps.
Some Thoughts:
- The keyboard really is a mess and limits my enjoyment of the typing experience. I will get used to this over time or I will research ways to fix it. Either or.
- Fix it.