Some wonderful electronica. Very fitting for the streets of Cutthroat Novel (which is a scary, kick-butt place).
Apr 12, 2012
Apr 11, 2012
why i failed the 2k a day
As my faithful readers know, about a week ago I decided to throw myself into a 2k-a-day wordcount challenge.
I failed.
Here's why. It's not that I can't write 2000 words a day. I can. I proved this to myself quickly. I put my nose to the grindstone and dutifully provided the number of words I needed to satisfy this goal. But I noticed, after a few days of this, that my writing was getting out of control.
The best way to explain this feeling would be to use a skiing metaphor. I love skiing, I'll even go down black diamonds if my husband coaxes me with promises of hot chocolate (and this is saying much since I had a rather serious skiing accident on one during my high-school years). I love going fast and hearing the shred of ice and snow under my blades. But there's nothing I hate more than going fast and feeling out of control. You know what I'm talking about, like any bump or hitch will send you flying into a cloud of powder and disjointed skis.
Well, writing 2k a day had a very similar feeling. I didn't feel in control of my story. Instead the demand for word-count was dragging me around by the hair, forcing me to write shoddy descriptions and words just for the sake of themselves. I didn't have time to mull over my characters of where the story was going, which meant that I took it down the wrong path more than once.
It was good for me to do this experiment, because it taught me a lot about my writing process. I'm a slow writer. I need time and space and freedom to delve into the story between the words and discover what I'm trying to say.
So today, I'm going to go back to the 6000 words I wrote and carve them down and figure out what this story needs in order to make it shine.
Maggie Stiefvater also has something to say about this, after she tried to write The Scorpio Races as a Nanowrimo novel in 2009. Somehow, hearing an author as talented as her coming to the same conclusions gives me hope. :)
I failed.
Here's why. It's not that I can't write 2000 words a day. I can. I proved this to myself quickly. I put my nose to the grindstone and dutifully provided the number of words I needed to satisfy this goal. But I noticed, after a few days of this, that my writing was getting out of control.
The best way to explain this feeling would be to use a skiing metaphor. I love skiing, I'll even go down black diamonds if my husband coaxes me with promises of hot chocolate (and this is saying much since I had a rather serious skiing accident on one during my high-school years). I love going fast and hearing the shred of ice and snow under my blades. But there's nothing I hate more than going fast and feeling out of control. You know what I'm talking about, like any bump or hitch will send you flying into a cloud of powder and disjointed skis.
Well, writing 2k a day had a very similar feeling. I didn't feel in control of my story. Instead the demand for word-count was dragging me around by the hair, forcing me to write shoddy descriptions and words just for the sake of themselves. I didn't have time to mull over my characters of where the story was going, which meant that I took it down the wrong path more than once.
It was good for me to do this experiment, because it taught me a lot about my writing process. I'm a slow writer. I need time and space and freedom to delve into the story between the words and discover what I'm trying to say.
So today, I'm going to go back to the 6000 words I wrote and carve them down and figure out what this story needs in order to make it shine.
Maggie Stiefvater also has something to say about this, after she tried to write The Scorpio Races as a Nanowrimo novel in 2009. Somehow, hearing an author as talented as her coming to the same conclusions gives me hope. :)
Apr 10, 2012
two things on a tuesday
1. So you guys know the Ridiculously Photogenic Guy that's been floating around the internet for the past week? This one:
Well this picture was actually taken a few weeks ago at the Cooper River Bridge Run that's held here every year in Charleston. I was talking to my brother over coffee last week (he goes to my alma mater and we like to meet and work together in a nearby coffee house, he's a writer too so it's kind of fun to just chill and write together). He leans over to me eyes wide and says, "There's just one degree of separation between me and an internet meme!"
Apparently Ridiculously Photogenic Guy is the brother of one of his high-school classmates. This got me thinking of how random and weird it would be to become famous as an internet meme. RPG did nothing but look at the camera at the exact moment someone was shooting. Days later he's internet famous and has people calling him for interviews/gushing over his good looks! How crazy is that?
On the other hand I'm not so surprised, because according to surveys, Charleston is where America's most attractive people live.
2. Husband has returned from his crazy long and involved documentary across America! He hasn't finished the video yet (there's hours and hours and hours of footage waiting to be waded through), but he has finished these short teasers:
It's good to have him home, and I'm very proud of what he's managed to get done!
All right! I'm off to write 2000 words!
Apparently Ridiculously Photogenic Guy is the brother of one of his high-school classmates. This got me thinking of how random and weird it would be to become famous as an internet meme. RPG did nothing but look at the camera at the exact moment someone was shooting. Days later he's internet famous and has people calling him for interviews/gushing over his good looks! How crazy is that?
On the other hand I'm not so surprised, because according to surveys, Charleston is where America's most attractive people live.
2. Husband has returned from his crazy long and involved documentary across America! He hasn't finished the video yet (there's hours and hours and hours of footage waiting to be waded through), but he has finished these short teasers:
It's good to have him home, and I'm very proud of what he's managed to get done!
All right! I'm off to write 2000 words!
Apr 9, 2012
2k a day: day 3
As of 5:18 today I have written 800 words. Not looking so hot. I could list a myriad of excuses (getting new tires for the car, grocery shopping, cooking dinner, hanging out with friends later), but it doesn't look like I'll be hitting 2000 words today.
But while I love goals and meeting them, I'm also learning to give myself a bit of grace.
Life happens. It's inevitable.
Tomorrow we'll be aiming for 2k. :)
Update: 6:36. I'm at 1100 words. Not too bad. AND I made turkey pot pie. I get bonus points for that. Right?
But while I love goals and meeting them, I'm also learning to give myself a bit of grace.
Life happens. It's inevitable.
Tomorrow we'll be aiming for 2k. :)
Update: 6:36. I'm at 1100 words. Not too bad. AND I made turkey pot pie. I get bonus points for that. Right?
Apr 8, 2012
Apr 6, 2012
the 2k a day challenge.
Lately, I've been doing so much juggling that I feel like a clown. It is my own fault. Because I seem to have a big problem making myself not write. And it is the nature of the publishing beast that there are long gaps of waiting/nothingness between editorial letters/other publishing tasks.
I currently have 3 WIPs in various stages of the writing process. It's kind of like a Netflix queue--listed with priority and importance.
1. LUMINANCE HOUR (obviously)
2. Southern Gothic Novel
3. Cutthroat Novel
Anyway. I've found myself with about a 2-3 week window to work on Cutthroat novel (since the other two are currently in the hands of professionals.) Cutthroat novel is in the first/rough drafting stages of the process. This is my very favorite of all the stages, and I'm really enjoying the chance to go back to drafting after 4 months of revision work.
But soon I will have to drop it and go back to revision land, so my goal is to get as much of this rough draft knocked out as possible. I have what I would like to diagnose as a "writing wall." This happens at about the 1500 word mark (ie. 6 double spaced pages). Once I hit this I lose my fuel or whatever it is that makes the writing magic happen. I lose hope. I go clean the house / read / eat / do other things.
I am determined to defeat this writing wall. And so it is my goal, for the next few weeks, to write 2000 words a day. It will be a stretch, and I might hate myself for it, but I will try to make this happen. If I do not, feel free to harass me. (Though keep in mind I take weekends off!)
And hey, if you guys feel like you can do this too, feel free to post your word sprints in the comments below!
Day 1: 2010 words
Day 2: 2033 words (draft total at 39,000 words)
UPDATE: After reading through these scenes I've decided to tuck away (see scrap) the last 1000 words of Day 2. This is because it was heading on a false trail. Alas. I will still count the words as written though. Because I wrote them.
I currently have 3 WIPs in various stages of the writing process. It's kind of like a Netflix queue--listed with priority and importance.
1. LUMINANCE HOUR (obviously)
2. Southern Gothic Novel
3. Cutthroat Novel
Anyway. I've found myself with about a 2-3 week window to work on Cutthroat novel (since the other two are currently in the hands of professionals.) Cutthroat novel is in the first/rough drafting stages of the process. This is my very favorite of all the stages, and I'm really enjoying the chance to go back to drafting after 4 months of revision work.
But soon I will have to drop it and go back to revision land, so my goal is to get as much of this rough draft knocked out as possible. I have what I would like to diagnose as a "writing wall." This happens at about the 1500 word mark (ie. 6 double spaced pages). Once I hit this I lose my fuel or whatever it is that makes the writing magic happen. I lose hope. I go clean the house / read / eat / do other things.
I am determined to defeat this writing wall. And so it is my goal, for the next few weeks, to write 2000 words a day. It will be a stretch, and I might hate myself for it, but I will try to make this happen. If I do not, feel free to harass me. (Though keep in mind I take weekends off!)
And hey, if you guys feel like you can do this too, feel free to post your word sprints in the comments below!
Day 1: 2010 words
Day 2: 2033 words (draft total at 39,000 words)
UPDATE: After reading through these scenes I've decided to tuck away (see scrap) the last 1000 words of Day 2. This is because it was heading on a false trail. Alas. I will still count the words as written though. Because I wrote them.
Apr 3, 2012
an obscure life post that i somehow relate back to writing.
I am bad at talking on the phone.
I don't know why. I just am. I get the sweats whenever I have to call people and ask for things. This doesn't really apply for friends or people I know. It's more for appointments. Like doctors or hair salons. Or, in this very applicable case, fixing one's car.
I was minding my own business, having a perfectly lovely Friday evening eating delicious/gourmet tacos when my car decided that it no longer wanted to run. I got into the driver's seat, turned the key and.... nothing. After going through all the necessary checkings (Is it the battery? Is the car set in Park?) I came to the deduction that the car was, well, dead. And that I had to get it towed.
Just the thought of calling a towing company was enough to set my teeth on edge. (Is there an actual term for phone paranoia?) But I did. And it was the worst of ordeals. This is how it went.
Saturday: Called a towing company. Waited 2 hours for them in a parking lot. Chickened out/had to go on a day trip out of town.
Sunday: Oh Sunday. Called a different towing company (as I took the fact that 1st towing company's no-show as a loud and clear, "We don't want your money."). The man on the other line told me he didn't want to drive as far out as I was from him. Called another different towing company. Man tells me it will be an hour. I bike to Taco restaurant to wait for them by my car.
An hour and a half goes by. I call back. Man confesses that he lost my number. Tells me tow truck will arrive in 5 minutes. Another half an hour goes by and I'm about to break out into hives because this entire ordeal is driving me close to insanity (Apparently my personality type doesn't "deal well with day-to-day" things. Which in my opinion involves employing tow-trucks.). Man calls back and tell me truck will arrive in seven to eight minutes.
Truck arrives. I ride along with my car to the car shop. The driver, who introduced himself as "Squirrely," then proceeds to inform me that their credit card machines are broken and he will only take cash. Car shop happens to be in the middle of nowhere. And I, flustered, explain that he must take me to an ATM.
Squirrely proceeds to drive me two miles further into the middle of nowhere. Here there be strip clubs (where Squirrely tells me there was a great knife fight the night before) and a gas station of a doubtful nature. I go inside and withdraw money from the ATM. I take the cash to Squirrely, who then proceeds to tell me that he has no change for the wad of 20s I have to hand him. I then return to the inside of the gas station, where the attendant searches for the watermark on my twenty-dollar bill before he gives me change.
Squirrely takes the money and then leaves me and my bike in the middle of stripclub/knifefight wasteland. I bike 4 miles back to my apartment.
I do not ever want to tow a car again.
The moral I will take from this ridiculous venture (besides the fact that all my paranoias about talking on the phone/setting up appointments are true!!!) is that in life and writing there will always be setbacks. Things will be late. Things will break down. People will only take cash and then not give you change.
The key part is you always, always have to keep going.
I don't know why. I just am. I get the sweats whenever I have to call people and ask for things. This doesn't really apply for friends or people I know. It's more for appointments. Like doctors or hair salons. Or, in this very applicable case, fixing one's car.
I was minding my own business, having a perfectly lovely Friday evening eating delicious/gourmet tacos when my car decided that it no longer wanted to run. I got into the driver's seat, turned the key and.... nothing. After going through all the necessary checkings (Is it the battery? Is the car set in Park?) I came to the deduction that the car was, well, dead. And that I had to get it towed.
Just the thought of calling a towing company was enough to set my teeth on edge. (Is there an actual term for phone paranoia?) But I did. And it was the worst of ordeals. This is how it went.
Saturday: Called a towing company. Waited 2 hours for them in a parking lot. Chickened out/had to go on a day trip out of town.
Sunday: Oh Sunday. Called a different towing company (as I took the fact that 1st towing company's no-show as a loud and clear, "We don't want your money."). The man on the other line told me he didn't want to drive as far out as I was from him. Called another different towing company. Man tells me it will be an hour. I bike to Taco restaurant to wait for them by my car.
An hour and a half goes by. I call back. Man confesses that he lost my number. Tells me tow truck will arrive in 5 minutes. Another half an hour goes by and I'm about to break out into hives because this entire ordeal is driving me close to insanity (Apparently my personality type doesn't "deal well with day-to-day" things. Which in my opinion involves employing tow-trucks.). Man calls back and tell me truck will arrive in seven to eight minutes.
Truck arrives. I ride along with my car to the car shop. The driver, who introduced himself as "Squirrely," then proceeds to inform me that their credit card machines are broken and he will only take cash. Car shop happens to be in the middle of nowhere. And I, flustered, explain that he must take me to an ATM.
Squirrely proceeds to drive me two miles further into the middle of nowhere. Here there be strip clubs (where Squirrely tells me there was a great knife fight the night before) and a gas station of a doubtful nature. I go inside and withdraw money from the ATM. I take the cash to Squirrely, who then proceeds to tell me that he has no change for the wad of 20s I have to hand him. I then return to the inside of the gas station, where the attendant searches for the watermark on my twenty-dollar bill before he gives me change.
Squirrely takes the money and then leaves me and my bike in the middle of stripclub/knifefight wasteland. I bike 4 miles back to my apartment.
I do not ever want to tow a car again.
The moral I will take from this ridiculous venture (besides the fact that all my paranoias about talking on the phone/setting up appointments are true!!!) is that in life and writing there will always be setbacks. Things will be late. Things will break down. People will only take cash and then not give you change.
The key part is you always, always have to keep going.
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