I am suffering this week. I have my butt in the chair or rather on my couch where I usually sit with my laptop perched. I have a tall glass of tea and Pandora playing in the background and yet the muse still evades me.
I read a book this past week that is different. It was actually unique. I don't think I've ever really read anything like it, and maybe that is part of my temporary confusion. Don't get me wrong, I enjoyed the book. Maybe I'm intimidated by the novelty of it.
They say everything has been said before, but you have to find a different way of saying the same things. But the voice in this novel was fresh. The protagonist was unique, I've never read a book where the woman has been bald since birth. And that really bothered me, a bald woman. I know lots of women have this problem, but here is a woman who has never known anything else. She didn't start wearing wigs until she decided to be a mother because Moms should have hair.
The more I was drawn into Sunny's story, the more I was temporarily taken out of mine. My character's problems just didn't seem that unique, and for a moment I wondered why anyone would ever want to read about her. Self doubt often nags at me and I usually push her away, but this week she would not be quieted.
I have given myself a break from my novel in progress tonight. I've tried some writing prompts. I've read some articles about writing. And my next read will be from the genre that I write for. And if that doesn't work, there are a few books I will take out and read a few chapters from. Good writing usually inspires me.