The beginning of the week was a struggle. It wasn't until Tuesday that I actually managed to write a fresh word for my dissertation, after Friday's uni extravaganza. I'm not sure that there was anything specific from that day that made my inspiration dry up so spectacularly but nonetheless, it happened.
The supervisor meeting went okay, despite being in a room with noisy air-conditioning. Being a naturally very cold person (or 'a corpse' as my father puts it) I have a great dislike of air-con. Add to that the fact that it makes me even more of a deaf bint than I am already, and needless to say I decided by the end of the afternoon that I don't like the Learning Café at all. Of course this may also be due to the fact that said Learning Café was very much without the 'café' part, meaning I was very caffeine deprived. No coffee = grumpy dinosaur bouf.
I managed to write a few words of Chapter 5 both before and after the supervisor meeting, though even as I was writing it I could see that it was all total bollocks (a sentiment reaffirmed when I type it up on Monday evening and Tuesday morning). After giving up with the whole writing thing soon after the meeting, I spent the rest of the time on the internet, replying to a few emails (and sending some to my sister detailing just how bored I was) and just generally wasting time.
I then went to the Writers' Panel which was part of the writing conference (with half the panellists only having been roped in ten minutes before, though were very good nonetheless) and afterwards had the dreaded reading for the Litmus Launch. Well, I am pleased to say that I managed to get through it without vomiting or fainting, so that's something at least. I did manage to bash into a table leg on my way up to the front but all things considered, it could have been much worse.
So all in all, not a terribly awful day - so why the sudden writers' block?
On Monday, after agonising over Hide and See through much of the weekend, I re-read a chapter from a different novel I've written the first draft of. While this other novel is in desperate need of editing, I found myself liking it more than my dissertation. I don't dislike my dissertation, I just don't find it exciting. I came to the conclusion that there's too much thinking and not enough doing.
Conclusion: I need to move things along a bit. Have I succeeded? Well, I've written a few thousand words these past couple of days, but it doesn't really count if it's drivel. I think there's a rise in tension but still nothing much has actually happened. And I'm realising that I really need something to happen. I mean, if I'm finding my own novel a bit dull how the heck are readers supposed to like it?
Maybe I should just make something explode? Seems to work for Michael Bay.