Here I am – writing, well more like tearing my story apart. I am frustrated. I wrote 400 pages only to find out that my story lacks.  This negative thought for some reason enters my mind like a worm, burrowing deep into the conscious, making its way into my subconscious. It is a disease, a parasite, or perhaps something else entirely.

I work hard to create a positive thought, one to oppose the gnawing ache in my head.  I need to stop trying to make my first 200 pages work in unison. I must take a step back, and break the story up into parts. This will allow me to focus my energy, my creative thought.

If I think I can – like the little choo-choo can, I can.

Step by step, brick by brick, I will build this story. I will take the time needed to make it level before I slap mortar on for it to cure. Yes, time. I’ve been at this for several weeks, and today over two hours, maybe longer and I still have an eight to ten hour work day on top of it.

What is my goal? What does it mean for me to achieve? I will write this story Tokus Numas. I will finish it. One day at a time I suppose, but I will get there. I must set my mind to do.  The worm will not have its day today. I will stop it before it goes any deeper, and keep it at bay, building up my defenses for the next attack.

Oh and it will come – the attack. This is only a test of my defenses, to find the chink in my armor. Where is my weak point – it searches. But for now I’ve held my ground.

Sincerely,

D.W. Rigsby

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