How To Punch Your Reader Right in “The Feels”
Head or Heart? The Heart Will Win Every Time
We all love those days when our words flow like a river and the current is strong. When there are no swirling eddies to pull you off course, or tempting tributaries to steer you wrong. When there are no massive waterfalls to suck you in and over at the last minute. Those are the days when you want to print off your manuscript and throw the pages around the room in wild celebration. Because you figured out that plot twist, and you rocked that tense tangle. You, talented wordsmith, effing nailed it! You are brilliant! Clearly, you will spend the next few decades seated comfortably at your desk, effortlessly writing 3,000 words a day, and be Pulitzer-Prize-short-listed before you can get yourself a decent pair of shoes and a good haircut.
But then, without warning, those days become few and far between and you suddenly find you have entered another phase — a phase that has you staring at your computer for hours on end, willing words — any words — to appear. When they do finally manifest, you only pause for a moment before tapping away at the delete key like a manic, pissed-off woodpecker. Then, you pause again; this time for cookies.
By noon, your desk is littered with debris: Visine, mugs of cold tea, twelve straightened paper clips, a dog-eared copy of “Bird by Bird,” six pens, (most of…
