And so there I was, happy as the proverbial clam… a surer sign of impending doom you will never see. *smirks*

I had 500 words to do on Book Three and a long afternoon of pure relaxation and quiet celebration ahead of me (see yesterday’s blog for the reason for said-celebration).  I just wanted to meet my word quota for the day, put the computer down and spend a few hours doing nothing in the least bit consequential.


Two hours into my 500 word trek, I looked down at my screen to find I had written precisely one sentence, and a lousy sentence at that.

Usually the first 10k of a novel comes pretty easily for me. If I’ve got the plot nicely outlined, I can pick and choose what I want to work on for that day with remarkable ease. For example…

In the mood to write some lovin’?

Not a problem!  I’ve got a dozen or sex scenes all ripe for literary scandalization.

Got a hankering for some banter?

Sure thing! There’s something like 30k of repartee waiting to be had.

Fisticuffs? Heart-pounding action? Drama dripping with the dramatic?

Let me flip to the end of the outline and there’s bound to be some juicy violence there.



Yeah, however.

One stinking sentence after two hours of toiling.

To put an exclamation point to my futility, I ended up deleting that one stupid sentence altogether. (It truly was crap.)

So, at that point, I quit. I walked away from the whole thing and didn’t look back. I then proceeded to selfishly lose myself in my Xbox, like any responsible, professional, author would do.

Yep, that’ll show stupid, old Book Three.

*rolls eyes, while giggling just a little*

Here’s hoping your Tuesday is a bit more productive than my Monday was.

Until tomorrow…


Acclaimed author of 17 novels (my dogs and mother adore me), World traveler (I’ve felt the Sahara Desert between my toes… still gobsmacked over the stars in the Sahara) And survivor (of three dirty-fighting gremlins named Anxiety, Panic and OCD)… My name is Chloe Stowe. Hello. If you’ve found your way here, you’ve most likely arrived on the coattails of my blog, The Words and Madness of Chloe Stowe. Started in 2012, my daily rantings now number in the thousands. Ranging from humorous to moody, poignant to absurd, these tiny tidbits of thought began as a way to get my name “out there.” It has long since morphed into an effort just to “be there” for anybody out there struggling with words or madness, like me. Quick biographical sketch of me? Nerd turned nut at nineteen. In my sophomore year at Auburn University, I was taken out at the knees by severe panic attacks. Chronic anxiety soon joined the dogpile, followed shortly by OCD tendencies. Oh, it was ugly. I eventually had to quit school and soon quit life, as well. I spent a good chunk of my 20’s not able to leave my room. Twenty years later, it’s still can get ugly in my head. Thanks to meds and doctors, however, I am able to lead a better life, now. I still can’t work outside the house, but I can live and smile and write. So, here I am. Broken, but stubbornly present. I hope my voice proves company to someone lonely out there. Thanks for reading! Chloe Stowe

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