Hey guys. Wanna know what kkbe looks like lately? Take a gander. I know, right? Yikes. Yeah, I’m getting a little freaked.
See, I started this novel and I don’t how to end the thing. Kinda ridiculous, huh? I write fifty-six thousand words, pretty good, too. I have no trouble thinking up my two main characters, Mike and his brother Albert. I know these kids–how they look, act, think. I know what they say, what they don’t say. I know their mother. I know Asshole and Jerkface. I know how they all met, I know what they did. I know how they got to this point, this particular juncture and I know what has to happen.
I just don’t know how to get there.
Being as I do my best thinking on the road, I went for a drive this morning. Nice morning, right? So I open my window and set the cruise control but things go to hell in a handbasket in a hurry. It’s windy and my hair starts flying every which way, blocking my view. Next thing you know, it’s all I can do to maintain a straight line long enough to get me where the hell I’m going.
Same kinda deal with my book. I was zipping right along but now I don’t know where to go and I’m getting mighty panicky. See that face? Seriously, that’s what I see when I look in the mirror. Why do I think it’s gonna get worse before it gets better?
Oh Lord, hear mah prayer. I need help, Lord. I need a muse, you know it? Or a writing buddy. A mentor! Or maybe just a sounding board and a good cigar. No, I need a ghost writer or maybe I should take up yoga. Or needlepoint. Something to calm me down. Maybe I need a puppy. Acupuncture. A lobotomy. A bottle of scotch. A bigger boat.
Seriously, though–I need a plan. An idea. An ending for my novel ’cause my brain’s going all kinds of crazy right now and to top it all off, I do believe I’m having a bad, bad hair day. . .