The Truth Hurts

I'm sure readers of this blog are as sick of me complaining about my book as the people in my real life, though the blog people have the advantage of skimming. I am now two weeks late on my deadline. Rather appropriately, I am stopped on the part where my hero is making her approach to the final confrontation. There's more to do after that--apparently the ending of the book is to feel like an ending, not an em dash. I don't know how to do that either. Like my Hazel, I am standing on the precipice staring at the battle ahead, and it all seems too much.

This is the same amount of work I've had to do for days, but I fidget and fiddle here and there and every time I get to this point I think I am not a good enough writer for this part.

I told my friend Megan this tonight--she also happens to be a Hamline alum and is thus quite sage. She listened as she did not have the luxury of skimming. She nodded knowingly and told me that these things in my head were the work of Simon the Awfulizer. Simon sits on your shoulder and hisses awful things in your ear.

But, according to Megan, the world must balance Simon out, and so it has given us Jacques, the Dog of Truth. Jacques does not speak soothing things in your ear or argue with Simon. He just bites him in the ass.

So, here is to Jacques, and precipices, and the battle ahead. Write well, and when Simon hisses in your ear, call on Jacques, and write on.