Saturday. My "alone" day, where I get to shop, meet friends, sleep in, chase the dog around the house, eat toast and read books, or write. The whole day's schedule is of my choosing.
I left it empty today, planning on finishing up chapter twelve. It's now half-past four and I am just getting round to that. I have unconsciously been putting it off, by staying in bed til 10 am, having tea with my Mum until 12 noon, sorting laundry, showering, lounging around on the unmade bed finishing a romance, and doing some food shopping that wasn't really that necessary.
Why? you ask, since I seem to have been doing so well recently. Well... I'm nervous. I'm about a third of the way through chapter twelve, and the end of it will be the start of the love scene. Not just kissing -- we had that in two previous chapters -- but the whole enchilada.
And I'm nervous as hell! I have never really written a love scene before, apart from a very wordy one I did a couple of years back. But that's when I wasn't as immersed in my writing and my characters as I am now, and it was merely then about putting words together. Now, I have to do justice to my characters, their feelings, their story, and bring all the sexual tension to one amazing culmination of passion. No pressure, then....