Yes, we were doing NaNoWriMo at the time. The experience is still fresh in my mind. This is why I'm using our 2017 NaNo badge as the image for this story. :)
The wind howled through the trees outside her window, the perfect accompaniment to the mournful tapping of the writer’s fingers against the keyboard.
Once she would have shared her ideas online with a group of like minded novelists, struggling to put their thoughts into words.
Everyone had drifted away, returning to their own respective projects. Many of them had releases coming out, which they were busy promoting and treating.
All the while, she struggled with the same manuscript.
She’d withdrawn from the community, trying to immerse herself in the pages of her story.
While she did so, member after member of her former associates lost touch with her.
She missed them, but she had work to do. This monster of a book needed finishing. If only she could create a working draft!
She kept finding scenes which needed revision, which she’d rewrite entirely. Again and again. Followed by again.
Why couldn’t she make it work? She could feel the potential throbbing within this story, the groundbreaking promise in the plot she envisioned.
The characters shrank away from it, participating with an awkward reluctance. If at all. They themselves didn’t seem happy with it.
What was she doing wrong?
The smell of burning meat and vegetables wafted from the oven, bringing her back to reality.
Oh, yes. She’d put her dinner in, only to forget about it.