Aaaand…cookies…

So, there I was, writing away like some crazed, um, writer, and all of a sudden (which, by the way is a phrase that will kill most agents when they read it)… nothing.

Not. One. Thing.

I have written myself into a corner. It’s a pretty darn clever corner, word-wise, but it is STILL a corner and I don’t know how to get myself out of it.

Most of the action in my current piece is pretty, um, I refuse to say “dull” because it would be like calling my own child a name, but I’m working on the climactic ending, and… yeah.

It’s the “now what” phase of writing, I like to refer to as “give me a hammer, I need to fix my keyboard” stage.

Oh, I’ve got drama. My antagonists and protagonists are all in the same building (although no one knows it yet) and someone is going to die (and I’m the only one who knows who, how, and why), AND, I know how this particular story is going to end.

It’s just that difficult part of HIGH DRAMA/ACTION that really has me bamboozled. Maybe it’s because I don’t have a lot of high drama… wait, yes I do. Ok, I don’t have a lot of high ACTION where I must get myself out of the clutches of a whacko and save the love of my life from certain death, while the love of my life is trying to do the same thing.

That’s the part of a book that makes me the most uncomfortable to read. It starts that familiar “oh, this isn’t good” feeling in my gut and I find myself wanting to read ahead just to make sure my favorites don’t die. And I thought READING it was hard. Writing it?

Even harder.

So, I’m not going to write it tonight. Instead, I’m going to go make cookies. I will bake them, and eat them, and feel very sorry for myself for a few hours. Then, I will go to bed, regret every chocolatey chip bite I ate, and have bizarre dreams that will not help me in the least.

Tomorrow, I’ll try it all again, because I’m either a glutton for punishment, or I’m a writer.

How about you? What happens to you toward the end of your story?

-Karen-