Yesterday I was whining to a fellow writer about the scant amount of pages I was churning out. Granted, I wasn't feeling so hot - not quite the germ-fest K3 had, but not feeling myself at all. I'd propped myself up on the couch, with my laptop and the remote and no matter what I tried, I couldn't get into the story. When I talked to her, I had a mere 7 pages written.
Part of the problem is my current story. I'm not a huge plotter, but I usually know a little of what's going to happen. This one is blindsiding me at every turn. Half the time I'm ready to toss it in the fire. The thing is I like this book. I like the characters, the twists and the growing relationship between the sisters and their men. This one is a challenge on a lot of different levels - I have three very distinct point of views for three very distinct personalities. One sister swears like a sailor - one is proper and polite. One rides a Harley - one drives a Jaguar. Once I get into their heads, I'm fine, but sometimes getting there is a struggle. Copious notes and the fact that even though each are different, they're still fun to write is probably the only thing that saves me from going insane.
Something clicked then, the pages came easier, the story clearer. And at the end of the day, I ended up with 31 pages. My goal was 30 - until I realized one more would put me at the half-way point.
And I can't get the progress meter to work, but if I could, it would be dead-on 50%. I still feel like I'm being slow, but at least I am moving forward.