Another good day! I think today’s key to success was giving myself permission to over-write. I told myself not to worry about final word count and pacing so much as just telling the story now so that when it’s finished (remember, Tracy, the goal isn’t to agonize but to complete this book!) I can go back and slash the extra debris. This approach saved me from that horrible creeping paralysis that sends me into a complete panic each time it comes a callin’.
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13,744 / 38,000
(36.2%) |
The work was fine today but not so much in the way I’d anticipated. I ended up adding fewer than my 400-word goal but that’s okay for two reasons: One, my count was more than 400 yesterday and combined with today’s word count I’m still on schedule for my final goal. Two, I figured out all sorts of stuff about the story and wrote three pages of notes.
I finally know the story with G’s mother! She’s not dead! She’s alive, she’s alive!
I understand why Mr. E is such a prickly personality when he’s around T.
I realized which character is the real rat bastard of the story.
Best of all, I found some needed inspiration while reading I’M A LEBOWSKI, YOU’RE A LEBOWSKI: LIFE, THE BIG LEBOWSKI, AND WHAT HAVE YOU (a fan book written for those of us who can’t get enough of the Coen brothers’ movie). It’s not rocket science but it was the perfect time for this particular slap upside my head (plus it came from an interview with the real-life Dude who inspired the character and movie). So what is the Dude’s explanation for the cult success of THE BIG LEBOWSKI? He points out that in all great comedy the situation gets progressively worse for the character(s).
Doh.
Apparently Joel Coen writes a scene and makes it as difficult as he possibly can for the character. Then Ethan Coen rewrites it, making it worse. And then Joel makes it worse again.
Thanks. That had not occurred to me, Dude.
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13,113 / 38,000
(34.5%) |
A pattern is emerging: First day was ugh, second was fine, third was ugh again.
According to my complex analysis, tomorrow should be another fine writing day. That is a relief. I don’t think I could take two days in a row of crying out in a fit of self-loathing as I slam all fingers onto the keyboard, momentarily sending the display into a quivering spasm of random chaos.
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12,839 / 38,000
(33.8%) |
Today was a bit easier. A couple days ago I realized I need to compress this book’s time-line but it stressed me because I wasn’t sure how to do that. And I sure didn’t want to tackle that dilemma today when I’m trying to get in the habit of adding words every day rather than slash a couple thousand in one sitting.
So I pulled a Scarlett O’Hara and told myself I’d worry about that issue tomorrow. And then I just kind of picked a jumping off point and started writing. Those words came pretty easily. In fact, I might go add some more right now.
As of this moment, I have at least 469 more words in my story.
Hope the day was productive for you, too, my writing comrades.
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12,277 / 38,000
(32.3%) |
Made my 400-word goal. Just barely. Ugh. Hope the next 74 days aren’t filled with such insecurity and angst. I felt so adrift in the story it was unnerving but I wrote my word count and now hope for an epiphany that will keep me on track for tomorrow.
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11,808 / 38,000
(31.1%) |
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9,789 / 38,000
(25.8%) |
Not much progress since I last posted but I did go back and polish what I had thus far. So while it doesn’t look like much, what I’ve got is solid.
Plus last night I finally figured out something my brain has been struggling to sort out for the past month or so. Something to do with a secondary character and the main plot line. Anyway, I knew there was a reason why my narrator kept referring to that other character but wasn’t sure what it was. Now I know. At least for today I know.
Isn’t it a weird sensation when you can literally feel your brain tripping on something over and over, and then there’s a shift and suddenly the answer is just waiting for you to pluck it off the shelf and plunk it down on the page?!
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8,760 / 38,000
(23.1%) |
I haven’t worked on my WIP since last Friday.
I’m also doing that withdraw-from-the-world-thing which is what I do when feeling glum.
So, I’m going to start posting my word count again in hopes of re-energizing my writing PLUS keep connected with my LJ community.
Hopefully it won’t all be blue meters on my part. Maybe I can sprinkle in posts of interest. And maybe I can finish the draft of this project. Again.
Sometimes it’s easy getting caught up in envy for other writers’ processes, especially the Stephen King-esque writers who hammer out manuscripts at an astonishing rate.
Last night I found out (again) why I’m not that kind of writer. I was feeling frustrated and anxious about the scene I was writing (or as ![[info]](https://i0.wp.com/stat.livejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small}
idaho_laurie so aptly put it, I felt twitchy) until I went back a few pages to where the writing felt good and then, with a running start, read to what I’d just written.
It took a couple reads but then the problem was suddenly so obvious. And the fix was very easy.
Now, if I’d caved into those demon voices that ridicule me for producing just hundreds of words per day, that taunt me because I’m nearing forty-five and still haven’t sold a book, that admonish me to get the lead out and produce something marketable, well, I’d either have curled up in the fetal position or started pounding the keyboard in a panicked attempt to write pages and pages just to prove I was a real writer writing a real book in a take that, demon voices! kind of way.
I’m so glad I didn’t. I know from past experiences that it’s so much harder for me to rescue a book from tangents and mis-placed emphasis than it is to write at a slow but solid pace.
I need to remember that this fall when I participate in JoNoWriMo+1.5; a couple hundred solid words per day, every day, is a perfectly fine way to draft a book.
It’s been a hard writerly slog the past couple weeks, both mentally and emotionally, but I’m grateful for the image of William Faulkner protecting the sacred circle surrounding my WIP and me. He’s doing a helluva job keeping those demon voices at bay. Sure, they slip in now and again but with one well-aimed profanity, he sends them running for the hills.
This morning
pointed out that I was leaving rather sad writing-related comments on journals. She wisely advised I stop beating myself up about my lack of progress and instead, give myself room to write whatever comes to mind. To relax and breathe. Or just be stuck. Her concern brought tears to my eyes.
A few minutes after reading her comment, I left for my weekly somatic experiencing appointment. When I got there, I told my therapist I was weepy this morning because I was so frustrated and stuck on a project. In talking about it further, I realized a huge part of my anxiety is the worry that I’d “talked” myself out of this book. The thing is, I learned the hard way (as in having to abandon a really great project) that I cannot talk about a book until I have at least a first draft written because each time I say something about the book, it’s like letting air out of a balloon. Pretty soon the book/balloon is flat and lifeless and I have no desire to play with it anymore. I do have a first draft of this book but it’s different than the others I’ve written. More plot oriented than character-driven. Since I’m not as comfortable with plot as characterization, I started talking with Zippy about plot issues. Well, he suggested stuff and we talked and talked about my book, and at the time I thought it was really cool to have that connection and collaboration. Now I’m not so sure.
In discussing all this loss-of-energy-on-this-project stuff with my therapist, I realized I needed to stop talking about this project. Then she recommended visualizing a circle around me and my project, one that keeps that creative energy close but also prevents anyone/anything from interfering in my process. So I closed my eyes and did that (somatic experiencing is all about looking within and tracking physical/emotional sensations. I know it sounds wacky but it’s been a lifesaver for me). She asked if there was anyone I wanted to stand guard on my circle, to help me keep out the interference. I chose William Faulkner. As I visualized my circle with ol’ William standing guard, I felt relief. Not one hundred percent relief, but some.
Then we talked more about the panic and doubts I’ve had about this project and I told her I felt like I was in a free fall. She asked if there was anyone I’d trust to grab onto me, to stop my fall. I immediately visualized a human chain of writer friends, all of you, reaching out to grab my hand. As I pictured all of us linked by our hands, I thought about how you all understand what I’m going through, how we all cheer each other on, and celebrate the good moments and mourn the bad. I thought about how this publishing trek is so tough and competitive but how everyone here is willing to help out the other writers.
I got teary again. The good kind of teary. In that moment, I felt safe and confident of my writing ability. The panic and doubts were gone. I wasn’t alone in my crazy shame spiral. You’ve all been there. You know what it’s like and you all do your best to drag fellow writers out of that icky place.
Since this morning’s appointment, I’ve had a couple more moments of loathing and doubt. But each time I visualized my connection with all my writer friends, and felt calm again. Later I sat at my desk, closed my eyes and basked in the quiet
wrote about in today’s post. And you know what? I wrote 700 words.
I appreciate each of you so very much. Thanks for all you give.
I told myself I wouldn’t start on the second draft of my middle-grade WIP until I sorted out the plot issues. So that’s what I’ve been doing. Pulling up my list of THINGS I KNOW and adding to it. A little bit here, a little bit there.
Well, I’m sick of it.
I don’t want to sketch out plot issues anymore.
I don’t feel like I’m moving forward on this project.
I just want to write the @$*#-ing book.
Among other THINGS I DO NOT KNOW, I still haven’t figured out the story of one character’s mother. Is she alive? Dead? Missing in action? Wandering the streets suffering amnesia?
Do I have to know this before I start the second draft?
I’m trying hard to stick to my THINGS I KNOW list as I figure out story/plot issues before starting my second draft.
Yesterday I added a bunch of details to the list, including one that raised the stakes.
Yesterday I felt pretty good about the process.
Today?
Today I’m reading through pages of notes I wrote during the first draft.
I’m back to those feelings of panic and overwhelm.
Which ideas are usable?
What should I ignore?
I read those notes and lose all focus as my brain scampers off on some A.D.D.-inspired field trip. Maybe this should happen. Maybe that. How about such and such?
Someone needs to give my brain a good talking to.
I just watched a great blue heron wading in the run-off pond near my house. That’s what I want to be in my next life. (Um, a heron, not a run-off pond).
The Bolder Boulder photographers just sent the link for me to check out my race day photos. Yikes. The photo of me running in the stadium toward the finish line shows one very tired woman. Zippy had five photos taken of him and I’m in three of them, running behind him like some oxygen-deprived stalker.
The official race results are now available and I discovered my time was nine seconds faster than I thought. Woo Hoo! But even more exciting, out of the 448 44-year-old women in the race, I had the 26th fastest time. (Technically I’m 27th but one of the women is listed as “Steve” which Zippy insists is a mistake. I pointed out there was a female character named Ralph on “Green Acres” but he insists that fact is not germane to the discussion). Anyway, I was pleasantly surprised by my race position and it took the sting out of getting a much slower time than I’d hoped for.
I’m trying to sort out plot issues for my middle-grade WIP but started feeling overwhelmed by all the possibilities. I was writing ideas, many of which were “maybe X does this because such-and-such…”, and I started to feel panicked by not having anything to hold onto. So I started a THINGS I KNOW list. I’m writing one-liners about story details I know for sure, and it’s helping me figure out what else I know. Now I don’t feel like I’m drowning!
Wildebeest had his last day of 7th grade on Wednesday and Zebu finishes 5th grade today. We’re all quite happy putting this school year behind us. We plan to celebrate tonight with some dinner and bowling.
This morning I went to the nearby tech school and bought a bunch of perennials from the student greenhouse which means I need to get outside and figure out where to put them in my various flower beds. I bought two forget-me-not plants because they remind me of Alaska. Now if only I could get a moose to come hang out in my yard………
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend.
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32,817 / 38,000
(86.4%) |
It’s my birthday, a day I love, but I still forced myself to get words down on paper. I even exceeded my daily word goal but maybe that’s not such great news. You see, I’m coming to the cold realization that while I will hit my JoNoWriMo+1.5 goal of 38K words by November 30, I probably won’t hit the other half of the goal which was to finish the first draft of my WIP. I don’t think I can wrap up this puppy in the next 5K words. Sigh.
Ah well, I’m off for birthday pie. Pumpkin and whipped cream.
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6,570 / 38,000
(17.3%) |
Last night I read my WIP from start to finish (which sounds pretty impressive until you know it’s only about 5500 words so far), and was satisfied it’s solid. Solid enough to continue moving forward, anyway. But as I outlined the next chapter I realized I needed some basic info about the legalities of how a photographer makes arrangements to photograph people. Not in a studio but in everyday settings. So today I did an online search and came up with this great resource that led me to some unflinchingly honest portraits by Marc McAndrews. I emailed Marc and told him the premise of my story and listed my questions. He wrote back very quickly with friendly and thorough answers. The funny thing is, the photos he does are nothing like the photographer’s work in my story but I loved Marc’s take on the world, and so took a chance on him helping me.
It really is true that people are eager to share their expertise with writers, and I choose to believe this willingness to help is due to the universal love of books.
Now all I have to do is write the next chapter.
But that’s the last of what I salvaged from earlier draft. Tomorrow I’m on my own…
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5,443 / 38,000
(14.3%) |
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4,503 / 38,000
(11.8%) |
Almost as many words as what I had when I stopped and started over. Hooray, I think.
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3,989 / 38,000
(10.5%) |
Slowly I creep…
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3,645 / 38,000
(9.6%) |
So I’m creeping along on this project, reassuring myself that while the words are coming slowly, they are, for the most part, quality words. They are words that tell a story I care about and though I don’t spend much time thinking about potential readers, my gut tells me others will care about this story, too. And then just a moment ago, doubt started shouting at me from the wings, taunting me with “Yeah, well I bet Author X cared about his story, too, but that doesn’t mean anyone else would.”
Here’s the deal: I’m reading a YA right now written by a multi-published author I absolutely love and respect. He’s magic with the English language and writes emotions and humor and characters/stories so real you feel as if they’ve made camp in your solar plexus. And yet, as I read this book all I can think is “Yuck!” Not about the writing itself but toward the story and basic premise.
I haven’t read any reviews of this book because I always wait until after I’ve finished reading, but I gotta believe I’m not alone on the ick factor. So did Author X ever wonder if he’d be the only one to care about his story? And should he even waste time wondering?
I truly believe we write the stories we need to tell, so here are my questions: Have you read well-written books that made you wonder what could possibly have possessed the writer to tell that particular story? And if so, did you end up caring about the story?
Not yet the plumpest manuscript but what I have so far feels solid. I think. We’ll see how it looks in the light of day but for now, I’m calling it progress.
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3,137 / 38,000
(8.3%) |
Learned some more about my main character last night and went back this afternoon to fill in gaps. It was a fun process today!
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2,359 / 38,000
(6.2%) |
Creeping along in the story. So grateful for that solid first chapter because it kept me on the beam today. I realized I was diverging from the story, recognizing that icky “huh?” feeling, and mercilessly deleted a couple rogue lines that had no place in the scene. Then I got back on track.
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1,631 / 38,000
(4.3%) |
I hit a rough patch in my WIP and then realized it was because I’d strayed from the narrator’s voice. I needed to anchor myself in that voice so I went back and worked and reworked my first chapter to my satisfaction. The Voice is back and I’m writing again! Gotta start over with the meter but that’s okay by me.
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889 / 38,000
(2.3%) |
Peace.
Tracy Abell 