Well, now, I don’t think I have ever been described as lazy. And, carelessness really doesn’t fit me either. I like to tell myself that procrastination is my inner watchdog telling me to slow down and take things a bit easier. I fall for it every time.
Of course, it has not helped that the children have been out of school for the holidays and hovering over my shoulder like little gnats. “Mom, are any characters named after me?” “Mom, if you sell a lot of books, will you buy me a go-kart?” “Mom, are you ever going to feed us?”
In truth, I have been multitasking for years, so I cannot in good conscience blame this on the children. The real issue is simply that I am at that difficult location in the story sometimes called the Sagging Middle. The first 40,000 words fly off my fingertips like a wizard’s conjured lightning and the last 40,000 are even faster. It is those pesky 20,000 or so words in the middle, when the story is building up the momentum to launch into that spine-tingling final arc that is the problem.
I call it the hump.
It obstructs progress as surely as an enormous boulder that has rolled into the middle of the road. So, there I sit, spinning my tires in front of the hump, digging myself deeper and deeper into the ruts. After days of studying the composition of the hump, I have learned that it is made up of an amalgamation of many different elements. Self-doubt, fatigue, perfectionism, indecision, fear. Fine. Maybe lazy once in awhile, but I am sitting at the computer while I spin those tires and my favorite websites are only one click away.
Paradoxically, the longer I wait, the bigger the hump grows.
As a result, whatever the cost, it must be destroyed. One strike at a time, chip by chip, the hump must be removed from existence. Only then can I move forward. Only then will I finally be able to enjoy the rest of the journey to that happy place called the climax.