I put this song on repeat in iTunes tonight and worked my way through the part I’ve been dreading to write all week. Yes, it was hard. Yes, there were tears. But it wasn’t as hard and there weren’t as many tears as I expected.
Tomorrow I move on and while I can’t really say the story’s going to get any happier, this is as bad as it gets for the next little while.
My husband must have some sort of prescience, because he sent me this video today, and I’ve been immersed in my memories of the city for the past two weeks. He has no idea what I’m writing about, we’re just on the same wavelength like that.
I spent my writing hour reviewing my friend Lindsay‘s novel-in-progress instead of writing my own. We’re at about the same point, six chapters, and it’s cool to see how we’re each progressing.
I’m still avoiding writing my own. I need to man up woman up pen up and just push through, even though it’s going to hurt. My thoughts are all in order so it’ll go quickly, I just don’t want to actually rip that band-aid off quite yet.
Whew.
I wrote about 1,300 words tonight, faster than I’ve written that much before since I started this project – under an hour. Many nights I don’t get that far in two hours, so my thoughts were really organized tonight. Could be because as one of the major scenese I’ve been envisioning since the start, it’s already so well plotted out in my head that actually putting it on paper was fast an easy. And it turns out that what I thought was two new chapters – everything I’ve written since the end of chapter 2 – was actually four. So that kind of feels good. Did a quick readover and then sent it out to a couple friends before I could second-guess myself. My stomach’s in knots about it, even though they’ve already seen the first two chapters and gave good reviews. I really hope they like this next bit.
When I reviewed, I took out the boots part. It just felt too weird to me. I’m much happier now.
I’m currently sitting at 35,000 words. Hard to believe that’s about a third of a novel. In two and a half months!
Now for my celebratory salted caramel chocolate, and bed. I’m going to give myself a bit of a break for the next while, not stay up so late. Writing until 1a.m. or later night after night was what made NaNo so hard for me, mentally. I think I’m going to back off any future time-related goals and just get as much done before midnight every night as I can.
Writing the last sentence of chapter 6 was hard tonight. My hands were shaking when I did it. What I have to write tomorrow is going to be even harder.
I didn’t make my deadline. I’m close, but it didn’t happen before the end of the weekend. I still wrote close to 4,000 words in two days though, so I’m happy, and I think if I can put in a couple hours tomorrow, I’ll have it done. And I’m fine with that.
I’m kind of a goal-oriented person. I was talking with someone the other day about leaving things until the last minute because I work better under pressure – case in point, my taxes filed less than 24 hours before deadline, and my post-secondary habit of beginning essays the night before they were due. That sort of pressure just seems to work better for me. And it’s a positive motivator, because I always did well on those papers, and my taxes were error-free.
I told one of my early readers that I would try to have chapter four finished for her for the weekend so she could have something to read. I think I’m close and I’m hoping to have it done tomorrow, if all goes well (I consider ‘the weekend’ to be a pretty loose deadline – that could mean 11:59pm on Sunday night). Unfortunately (for her) it’s going to be a cliffhanger ending and it might be another eight weeks before I’ve finished five and six. Anyway, having even a vague deadline looming over me has kicked me into high gear, which I appreciate.
I read a lot about gargoyles today, which was cool. And I’m slowly filling up my characters’ pinterest boards, which is always a fun break if I need to give my mind a few minutes to mull something over.
I feel like May is going to be a really positive month for me, creatively. 🙂
I’m having so much fun writing about Paris in this story. Having my characters running around the city makes me remember all the wonderful experiences I had there too, and hints of some of those have made their way into the narrative. I want to go back so badly!
I fear sometimes that I put too much of myself in my main character. I don’t know if I do it out of laziness, because it’s easier to make her like the same things I like, or because I relate to her (but of course I relate to her – she likes all the same stuff I do) or if it’s my ego getting totally out of check. But I’m starting to see it more and more the further I get into this story, and at over 25,000 words, I’m well into it.
Inspired by last night’s out-of-the-blue panic attack, I wrote about anxiety tonight and made Callie suffer from it as well. I also used one of my favourite fabric prints as the inspiration for a scarf she bought, and lastly, put her in possession of my very favourite boots, which are too distinctive to be mistaken for anything else in the description. The boots thing especially alarms me a little bit, because that’s so very specific. But it’s how I see it in my head, and I don’t want to deviate too much from the way it’s all arranged in there.
I’m not sure if it’s a bad thing entirely though. I think writing about stuff that I love makes me illustrate it better and makes it easier for readers to believe that she likes it too. In my last novel, I made my main female character a runner, something I hate, but I felt like when I described how she felt about running, it sounded unconvincing. Maybe that’s just me reading that part with the skeptic’s eye, because I dislike running so very much.
My misapprehension comes from the thought that instead of thinking “what would Callie do” in a specific situation, I’m thinking “what would I do,” and so she’s not coming into her own as a fully-fledged person. Because she is certainly not me, not even in my head, although she seems to have made herself right at home in there and talks to me often. To be sure, there are lots of differences between us too, more than there are similarities, and those differences are only going to multiply the more I write. Things are about to get a little bit crazy.
Surely there must be a blog post or something from another author who has addressed this in the past.
I wanted to write tonight, but I’m having anxiety issues and can’t focus. No idea what the trigger was, but there’s no way anything coherent is going to come from me tonight, and I need to get away from screens. Best to go to bed and try again tomorrow – Saturday! I can write for half the day if I want!
Maybe writing about anxiety will be therapeutic? Something to consider for the near future.
I have so much love for the people in this story.
That’s all, really.