I wrote another 500 words for 'River of Bones' and I think all of them will not survive. I've got my idea for the middle and how to tie it into the end but getting there is a little tricky. This morning's writing was all about the getting from point A to point B and not much else. It's all transitional and only has a few things that really build the story. Looking back over them, it felt more like a free writing exercise to see if anything useful came out of it. However, with Son Number One in the room flipping through Sunday morning infomercials and finally settling on an I Love Lucy rerun I've had a tough time concentrating. Now two hours have passed and he's started playing some of the quirky indie rock that he spends all his money on. I wish he would have done that earlier when I was not tired of typing. Much more inspirational.
Anyhow, even though this morning's effort will probably not see print it is all part of the process and might trigger something down the road when then words tremble at the might of my delete button. Death doth wonderfully concentrate the mind, said the Bard, and paragraphs facing extinction may scream something worthwhile in those last few seconds before the lethal injection takes hold.