I am in a serious funk.
I am on the second to last chapter of my book. This is the third draft and everthing was going great. I was excited about the ending, everything was set up for the big Grand Finale before everyone celebrates.
But I have lost all desire to write. I drag myself to the keyboard each day, fleshout the scenes. But none of my characters are talking. I feel like I am pushing wooden cut outs around a board.
I don't want to go back and read to catch the passion again, because I don't want to leave the book without an ending.
I have taken showers, walks, imagined the scene playing out in my head, even tried music.
What the hells wrong with me?
I am on the second to last chapter of my book. This is the third draft and everthing was going great. I was excited about the ending, everything was set up for the big Grand Finale before everyone celebrates.
But I have lost all desire to write. I drag myself to the keyboard each day, fleshout the scenes. But none of my characters are talking. I feel like I am pushing wooden cut outs around a board.
I don't want to go back and read to catch the passion again, because I don't want to leave the book without an ending.
I have taken showers, walks, imagined the scene playing out in my head, even tried music.
What the hells wrong with me?