Where's the Creamy Goodness?

The honeymoon's over. The bloom is off the rose. The bubble has burst. And all kinds of other tired cliches for "crap went downhill real fast."

Is it a myth that Week Two in a novel-in-a-month plan is really, really bad? No. It's true. There seems to be something about Week Two in many ambitious, life-changing ventures. Week Two is also infamous on The Biggest Loser, and competitors dread the weigh-in at the end of the week. My theory is that in both cases, writing and losing weight, reality and fatigue have set in, and your body is saying, "Wait. What is this we're doing?"

In my case, Week Two is painful because my Lead is alive, s/he an Objective, and my spectacular Conflict has been unleashed on them full force. The stakes are high, and I have a Knockout ending waiting in the wings. (Credit to James Scott Bell for the LOCK approach in Plot & Structure.) The problem is what to put in the middle. Because my middles are never filled with creamy goodness. My middles are filled with misery. How many crushing defeats can my Lead take without thoroughly depressing my reader?

A good subplot would be welcome right about now. Preferably one with a compelling twist that no one ever saw coming. Hum-de-dum. Any minute now. Wait for it . . .

Hmm. My muse seems to be on another line.

You might notice that I didn't blog during the entirety of Week Two. I divided my writing time mostly between blinking contests with my cursor, doing "research" in the crime library at trutv.com, feeling guilty for not writing, feeling exhausted, and sleeping.

The bad news is: I'm way behind on my word count. Chris Baty encourages me to get to 20,000 words by the end of Week Two, which would mean I'd need another 6,816 words in the next hour and ten minutes. Sure . . . why not?

The good news is: I'm still here. I'm not remotely considering giving up, and Baty suggests that this likely means I've beaten the odds and I'm here for the long haul.

So, here's my plan: make it to 23,500 by the end of the weekend.

I refuse to wear the cheesy stickers that read, "Ask me about my novel!" So, I'll just post an invitation here: Nag me about my word count at your discretion.

Yahoo. Pass the Mountain Dew. It's going to be a long weekend.