is it consistency or creativity?
To be honest, I’d say a little bit of both. Consistency and creativity produce novels.
Over the past month, I started writing again. My accident was on May 27th, and after my accident, I couldn’t sit at my desk long enough to write. I still have concussion and whiplash symptoms, I still throw up and get dizzy and have headaches, BUT, I’m showing up. I miss my writing. I miss the world I create and escape to when it’s just me and my imagination.
For the longest time my neck and upper back wouldn’t support me after the accident, but every day I get a little bit stronger. Thank the Universe. Because I’m writing. I’m finally writing.
When I first started writing books I thought I had to hit huge word counts and finish in a few months. Nope - I’d burn out. I overwhelmed myself and had no routine; well actually that’s a lie, I had a corporate routine. I’d say, “Okay, Jourdana. Let’s write from 9-5. Let’s work.”
Yeah. It didn’t work out so well. When I have too much time, I panic. But also, I panic when I don’t have enough time. Don’t worry, my therapist knows, ha.
Anyway, I started telling myself, let’s write 500 words a day and if I do more, great, that’s lagniappe, but, 500 words a day will get you a novel. And it did, it got me, Elle. Now, it’s helping me write Grace.
As of today, I exceeded 26,000 words in Grace. That’s huge! I still have so much of her story to tell. For the fun of it, here is an unedited, first-draft, snippet of a scene in my new novel.
Excerpt “Grace” :
Calling off the wedding destroyed him. I can still feel the ghost of his ring on my hand, the diamond twirling between my thumb and my ring finger. I thought I was ready to get married, everything seemed perfect, and then the week before the wedding my mother called me.
“I don’t care how much it costs, I don’t care about any of the plans, do you want to marry Benjamin? This is your out, Norah. I don’t care about the guests, I don’t care about the money. I care about you and your happiness; do you want to marry this man?”
Her words sang in my ears, do you want to marry this man? I thought I did, and then I got scared. I became terrified. Why did I need an out? Why did my mother ask me if I wanted out? I loved him, Benjamin was my best friend, but I wasn’t ready to get married. Grace came over unexpectedly that night and only saw the very end; I was leaving our house crying, and inside Ben was in shock; my ring hot in his hand. I never meant to hurt him, and I never stopped loving him.
