When I stop, I know that something is wrong. I haven’t picked up the thread of the novel since last weekend, so the word count remains at 2334.

So what happened? Two things: I’m doing a terrible job at being a good parent to my inner child running wild. It’s all ice cream for breakfast and staying up late and ponies and trampolines. That is, I’ve been lacking structure and the discipline to enforce it. I have lousy energy management and self-care skills right now, and while normally that’s result of a depressive fog, it’s currently due to having fun. Well, that’s clearly got to change. I write my best when it’s raining and cold and no one loves me. Right.

So that’s part one: I need to exercise better self-care so I can get back on my game. Part two is within the writing itself. I’m at a stage of writing that I love. It’s like automatic writing, where a medium starts writing notes from the ghosts in the room. I invent details in the moment, and it’s exhilirating. The problem is that I haven’t done enough research and I’m getting stuck a lot. I’m making decisions on the fly and I have none of the knowledge to back it up.

For instance, the premise of the novel is that a personal trainer who’s training for an ultrarunning race is working with a has-been pop star to get him in shape for a big comeback. I decided that the pop star really likes to dance, and the trainer decides that she’ll use it as a tool to get him in shape. Only I know dead nothing about dance, other than I admire people who are able to make it look effortless.

I thought eschewing research would keep me from procrastinating (I know I’m not the only writer who goes down Wikipedia rabbit holes), but no, it’s done the opposite, because I don’t have the energy to do the research and also get my words in.

So, to do: get sleep, get exercise, lay offnthe drinking, and do some research.