There are many times when I struggle with writing, but not many more than the last week.
I took a break from the novel I was writing to get away with my wife and kids. We spent a couple of nights in a hotel, observed Covid-19 protocols, and had a nice time.
It felt good to have some fun with the family. Then I got home and discovered I’d lost the threads of the story.
In the days prior, I thought that may happen, but tried to ignore the warning signs.
The story stopped at one point and I had to backtrack. I felt the story going in one direction, but I moved it in the direction I wanted and it felt like it was falling apart.
I told my wife this morning that I thought it would be difficult to merge the two genres I enjoy, political/military thriller and horror, but it’s a lot harder than I anticipated.
I really want to merge these two genres as they’re what I grew up reading, but hell it’s hard.
After I wrote a few hundred words this morning, I threw in the towel. The story as a novel is dead, though I’m going to resurrect that sucker as short story or novella.
I have things to work on. There are quite a few submission calls out there and I’ll work on those.