Imagination is too much sometimes.

Sometimes I am simply beyond horrified at the things that are in my brain to concoct.

Beyond horrified.

Today marks day two of my two-hours-a-day writing commitment, and I’m shocked at where my story has taken me.

When I made the decision to write this novel, I knew it was going to get gory. I knew it was going to get graphic, and violent, and psychological, and scary.

Maybe I have an overactive imagination, but the things I wrote tonight left me sitting in my chair, hands covering my face, rocking forward and back, spinning ever so slightly because my floor isn’t level.

Of course, if I wanted to write children’s books I wouldn’t be at this place, but I don’t.

I’m sure Stephen King is left freaked out and horrified by some of the things he writes. Not that I’m comparing myself to Mr. King, obviously, but the extents that my imagination takes me to really freaks me out.

Oftentimes I wonder to myself, “Where did I get this image? How do I know how to describe this?” but I never have been able to figure that out.

It’s probably from reading books and watching movies and knowing basic anatomy, but still.

If I have nightmares tonight, it’s my own damn fault for getting carried away with putting my characters in peril.


Anyway, the story is coming along nicely. I’ve surprised myself by succeeding at writing over two thousand words for the two days that I’ve been writing for two hours.

Indeed, I’m averaging around two thousand six hundred words, which is about one thousand three hundred words an hour.

I never knew how loquacious I could be until I decided to kick my own butt at writing.

But hey, as I roll along hopefully my literary style becomes better. I’ve reached a point where I don’t cringe at my own writing, and sometimes I even pat myself on the back for being so freakin’ eloquent. (Occasionally.)

So here we are—day two, and I wrote two thousand, three hundred sixty-seven words on my novel today, as well as this three hundred seventy-seven word blog, so I’m going to say I’m doing all right.

Aside from scaring the living crap out of myself, that is.

(Oh, technically I’m a day late with this blog, but my brain is still in Wednesday mode, so I think I’m good.)

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