Category: Just Keep Writing

I Got The Blues

I’m developing a serious hate-on for my first chapter. Even when I was writing it I thought it was a bit weak, but now the further I progress – and the more I read about proper first-chapter development – the more I want to rip it up (or since it’s entirely digital, select-all-delete, I guess) and start fresh. There’s way too much back story and not enough dialogue, and a lot of it comes off a bit smug, I think. Chapter two is on similarly shaky ground, although it has some elements of mystery and foreshadowing that are important to the rest of the story. Both deal with character development, I suppose – it’s not like the first 12,000 words are a recitation of the periodic table of elements or anything similiarly pointless – but when I read it back to myself, I think “boring, boring, boring” or maybe TL;DR. Which is the kiss of death for any novel, as I’ve been told over and over. I care about Callie because she lives in my head, and I’ll listen to pretty much anything she tells me, but I’m not sure, having just read the first chapter, that anyone else would. By the time you get to the end of chapter two, I think there’s definitely incentive to keep reading, but the fickle reader, short on time, might decide to move on to something else if the first ten pages don’t capture their interest.

But I have a problem, and that problem is revision.

I’ll tell you a secret – I’ve never revised anything I’ve written. Ever. I don’t do drafts. I do final products. This is how I would write papers in university: I would do all my research, get all my supporting arguments and quotes in order, then sit on it for a week or two and plan the whole thing out in my head, going over and over it until I liked the way it fit together. Then, usually a day or two before it was due, I would sit down and write the entire thing in one sitting, from beginning to end. I’d usually check it over once for spelling and grammar – I often mis-type ‘from’ as ‘form,’ for instance – and then print it and submit. The end. I graduated with a GPA of 3.78 so obviously the system works well for me – when it comes to 5,000-word papers, that is. Obviously this project is a bit bigger than that, which is why, without all the mulling and stewing and planning in my head beforehand that’s occurred with the major scenes but not the connecting ones, I’m sometimes only able to produce 500 words an hour.

So I find myself in unchartered territory here. I need to revise. I need to strip and chop and rebuild and strengthen. It’s not what I’m used to. It’s not something I imagine I’m all that proficient at – I need to find some good ‘how to revise your writing’ blog posts – but sooner or later, I need to head down that road. And with all my unfamiliarity with the process, I have no idea if I should be doing that now, while it’s especially bothering me, or just keep moving forward, and make that the first agenda on the revision task sheet. I have a feeling if I don’t deal with it soon, my feelings about chapter one are going to get worse and worse until I start to question the entire project’s worth, which won’t be good for my future as a novelist. But it seems like such a step backwards, a giving-in to the inner editor who really needs to just shut up and let me work, dammit. I am open to suggestion and wisdom and experience from all sources.

Next up in the series I may start calling My Failings As A Proper Novelist: Why I Also Don’t Write Outlines (But Should Get Over That, Already)

You know when…

…you spend what seems like a good amount of time writing, and you feel like you’ve really accomplished a lot, and then you check your word count for the day and it’s only like 700 words? And then you ask yourself how the hell it took you two hours to accomplish such a meagre output?

Welcome to my life for the past two weeks.

It’s like chipping away at granite, people. With a toothpick.

Avoidance

Well it seems I’m taking a little break from my book this week, after scrambling toward the end of chapter six in several marathon writing sessions. I’m avoiding starting it up again because I’m at a painful part in the story, and every time I think about delving into it, I feel a little sick to my stomach. So I’ve been updating this blog, pinned a bunch of stuff to my characters’ Pinterest boards and went over my first readers’ suggestions and comments, but haven’t actually opened the document up to write anything new since last Wednesday.

When I think about it, I cry. And that makes me realize I may have invested a little bit too much of myself into this story. I also feel like I can never find the words to do the emotions of the scene in my head justice.

Or it means I’m a little unstable right now. Really, it’s 50/50.

What I need is a nice quiet evening, a couple glasses of wine, a box of kleenex and a playlist of sad songs.

Or for someone to punch me in the back of the head and scream “start writing!” in my ear as loudly as they can.

Paris, je t’adore pt. 2

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.

Time’s up

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.

Goals and deadlines

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. 🙂

Separation

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.

Dragging my feet

Today I hit 20,000 words!

It’s not quite writer’s block, but I sure seem to be struggling getting through this part I’m working on now. It’s not that I don’t find it interesting or necessary – in fact I’m doing a lot of important relationship building that will be paying off in the future – just that the words aren’t really there. I’m a little muddy on what exactly is going to happen in the next few paragraphs, so it’s hard to push forward.

Part of it is that I’m still thinking about the future, word-wise, and impatient to get there. I also came up with a twist that I’m really, really exicted about – so much so that for the next few hours after I thought of it, I kept remembering and smiling gleefully to myself – but writing that whole part is many, many months and probably years away. I guess it’s enough that I know it’s going to happen, and can write toward it with that knowledge. Already, what I’ve already written makes more sense, and is more relevant, with the eventual inclusion of this twist.

As an aside, why do all my best ideas come to me when I’m driving?

This week I’m determined to get back into my writing routine and steer clear of distractions. Having been away for the weekend without accomplishing much at all, I’m ready to tackle it again. If I can get through the next 3,000 words or so, I’ll get to one of the Big Scenes that’s been shaping itself in my head for the past two months and is itching to get out. That should provide some motivation, right? And that will bring me to the end of chapter four.

What I think I need to do is spend some time in my head on this current scene, and work it all out in there, rather than focusing (obsessing, really – let’s call it like it is) on the Big Scenes and running through them over and over again. I need to remember that the parts in between are important too. So there you go. Time for bed and a little daydreaming – not something I ever complain about!

Overcoming apathy

I went away on vacation for a week and despite my best intentions and dreams of sitting on the beach and by the pool all day, writing endless reams of inspired prose, I never typed a single word. Never opened my document, as a matter of fact. Not even on those six-hour flights on planes without seatback televisions.

It’s easy to fall out of a habit. My routine is to write in the evenings, usually from 11pm until midnight or thereinabouts. Taking a bit of advice from Stephen King’s On Writing, I go down to the basement, close the door of the family room, get comfy (but not too comfy) and go to work without distractions. And I find I really rely on my closed-door routine. In a smallish Hawaiian condo basically confined to a single room after 9pm (so the kids can sleep undisturbed) I couldn’t make my closed-door process work. And I don’t seem to have the right frame of mind to write during the daytime. So when we came back home, I felt apathetic about writing again, compounded by the fact that I didn’t really like how the scene I was in the middle of was going. Even after a three-hour Higher Ground cafe writing marathon with my partner in novelling, I still wasn’t accomplishing much. Last night I struggled through 250 measly words, and that in an hour and a half.

Tonight I broke through. I like how things are shaping up again, I found myself composing a scene I hadn’t even imagined until I started writing (which are usually my favourite ones) and I’m feeling good about where I’ll pick up tomorrow.

One of my supporting characters, Dex, is reminding me more and more of my brother Dan every scene I put him in. Tonight I laughed out loud at something he said, and I didn’t even know he was going to say it until the dialogue started flowing.

I also hit page 30 in my document, which is kind of a milestone. At 12-pt, single spaced, that’s around 18,000 words, and I added another 1,300 or so tonight. For me that’s a good night. I’m a slow, methodical, everything-right-the-first-time kind of writer. I need to think it all through first. A lot of people say the only way to write is to just spew it all out and revise later, but that’s not me – and explaining that is a post for another day. Tonight I’m happy with my progress and looking forward to what the future brings – even if I have no idea what’s going to happen in the next 20 pages!

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