I deleted two chapters today.
I wrote them. And then I deleted them.
They were horrible.
The problem is that I kind of know what I want to say next in my story...but not exactly. It's like smacking clay onto a sculpture blindfolded. You hope you hit something that feels right.
Only I didn't. My blobs of words were far off the mark. Blek. I wouldn't want to read that mess.
So I have ended the day with no more words than I started with.
And I am searching my mind for some word of inspiration that keeps the day from feeling like a total failure.
The best that I can come up with is from a story about a couple of oil drillers. The young one was frustrated after a day of drilling with no discovery of oil. But the old one was contented. He said sometimes it is just as important to know where oil ain't.
Yep. That's what I'm telling myself.