Yesterday I wanted to quit being a writer. I had the urge to just go get a regular job that is normal and nice and comes with a regular paycheck. Folding clothes sounded like heaven compared to the blood, sweat and tears that seem to accompany this crazy life sometimes.
Being a writer is very angsty.
I’m sure I’m the only one who has ever felt that way.
Take today for instance. I get over my urge to go apply at starbucks or the mall yesterday and reluctantly pick up the proposal I need to finish and stare at it. I have a great premise. I understand the story. I’m coming to understand the characters. I sit down to tackle the proposal, type the title of the book and then….I stop.
I don’t know the main charcaters names!!!
I cannot go further until I do!! It seems like such a small thing but I think names are an integral part of the characters and they can’t become real until I know their names*. And here’s a confession that only writers will understand. I can’t just go pick a name like I’m picking out a watermelon at the store. It has to be the right name.
And I’ve got nothing.
Where did I put that Baby Name book….
*either that or this is a deep-seated procrastination problem that I am in denial about…