Writing...Sometimes it's hard

After completing four books in just under two years, you'd think I'd have this whole writing a book thing down. Huh, exactly the opposite. I find I'm questioning myself more than I ever have before. I've written and rewritten the same paragraphs over and over, backspacing every time I finally get something down. What is this sudden stage fright-y feeling?

I have no idea, but I do know that I need to kick myself in the ass and get over it. With that, I've been working on the novella, which may or may not turn into a book, for the DF series. I think I'm really falling in love with these new characters, and want to show more of their story. But I'll have to see how time works out while also working on DF 2.

Here's the painstakingly short paragraphs from the beginning of Astarte's Wrath that took me, no lie, five hours. Do you guys get all freaked out, even while writing a review, and feel like it's impossible to get anything down? Maybe if I put this out into the world, it will force me to get my butt moving and get it done. *downs two cans of Coke back-to-back* Here's hoping...

 

Chapter One

Whenever the sky bleeds, covering the once-blue pallet with crimson, and the bright ball of fire burns through billowy puffs of white, staining them and the earth in hues of red-orange and amber…and ash floats on a non-existent breeze, I know the Narcolym Guardians are waging a battle.

            Shuttering my window, I unloose the hemp thread, and a sheer curtain veils the sand-covered horizon from my vision. My fingers trail the cream fabric, the tips tracing the darkening clouds against the light material as my other hand curls into a fist by my thigh, dousing the swirling vortex rising up at the charge in the air.

            “Star…?”

            Astarte, I correct inwardly, but pinch my lips closed. “Yes, Habi?”

            Habi’s footsteps echo throughout the mud-brick room as he approaches. “It’s time…”