… Or when you find your writing music.
One of the perks of an upgraded MacBook that I’m repopulating from scratch (because the previous drive had so much crap) is going through the external drive that contains files that are almost 20 years old, including letters to an old boyfriend that I never sent. And thank goodness for that. I had to delete them all it was all so painful and it’s no wonder that I’ve forgotten about them.
And then there were the old CD’s that I burned to transfer to my iPods then, specifically my writing music. Back in the days of Borders bookstores, I haunted the electronic/dance aisles and bought every Buddha Bar and similar music mixes. Some were a hit and miss, while some just activated the writing juices from the moment the first song played.
This is one of them:
Thanks to bluetooth technology, I can stream the music to the barely used speakers in the living room when I’m alone. Hopefully that means more writing time in the horizon for me because heaven knows, I’m late again and the characters are talking.
In the meantime, my secret Kindle World project is faltering, the borrowed world taken over my own characters that it no longer makes sense to even try. Proof of this is that five days later, I’m still at 6,800 words and it’s just so pathetic. Unlike writing my stories where the words just flow and I can’t write fast enough, with this one, it’s one step forward and then two faltering steps back, questioning myself all the way. Did I get the borrowed character right? Would he do this? Would he do that? Why the hell am I even doing this?
Writing in another author’s world, I’m afraid, is not for me and I might be better off calling it quits while I’m ahead.