It was a relaxing Saturday morning. She was soothed and inspired by the house sounds- the whir of the ceiling fan, the air conditioner cranking up, the dog’s constant licking. And yet, the absence of sounds from the television and/or stereo did not go unnoticed. Her thoughts started out on their random parade. What was she going to do today? What would she read after she finishes the fantasy book later today? Will she get any writing done?

Ahh, writing. It always came back to that. She had been struggling with plotting that elusive novel for some time now. Short stories- no problem. Blog posts- no problem. Twitter and Facebook updates- without thought or hesitation (not necessarily a good thing, she realized).

Writing as a “pantser” was not working. About thirty pages in, and she was pretty stuck. She would ponder for days about how to move the story forward. And after a week, her mind would just move on to something else.

Outlining made the story feel mundane and contrived. There was no excitement about what happens next. She knew what was coming, and it seemed kind of boring.

She had tools- a sleek, sexy computer, several word processing programs that she paid good money for so that she could change things up, even an old school pink notebook and funky pen that glided over the paper.

What she didn’t have was a manuscript.

That sucked.