So, I'm not going to get to 95,000 - 100,000 word for Ethrill before tomorrow. I gave it a good effort, and am currently at 88,000. I think I can make 90,000 by tomorrow though. I can count that as a finish, right? It is clear that I have a lot more to write, so I am probably going to have to start looking at splitting it into two books unless I cut out a bunch when I edit it. For the rough draft, at least, however, it will likely be two books unless I disobey the newbie book rule and have a super long one. But, I gave it good effort, and I don't think I'll mind taking a break as I look forward to NaNoWriMo. Plus, I'm becoming impatient to edit PoP. I'm so ready to have a finished full-length book.
So, as most writers know, National Novel Writing Month starts tomorrow! Not going to lie, I'm nervous. My husband is lovingly referring to it as Video Game Tuesday. He says he is going to play video games until I get my word count in. Which, I won't lie, has in the past proven quite effective. I don't like feeling ignored while he plays video games, so it does force me to work hard on my word count because I know as soon as I finish, he'll turn off the video games and we can do whatever we want. I feel like such a child, sometimes. :P
I tried to make a list of short story ideas for NaNoWriMo in preparation, so I wasn't totally stuck once I started. It didn't go well. I began drawing a complete blank for stories. Or at least ideas for short stories. But I came up with what I think/hope is a good idea to solve that! We have this game called Dixit, which has a ton of very interesting picture cards. I've decided to look at each picture and create a short story based on those cards. After all, I need something for inspiration, and some of those could make very interesting stories. I'm not sure what yet, but I believe.
So good luck to all you other NaNoWriMoers out there! Looking forward to mutual misery starting tomorrow.
Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Writer's Block. Show all posts
Monday, October 31, 2016
Tuesday, September 6, 2016
Writer Fears
If you've read the description for this blog, you know that my intention was (and sort of still is) to use it to talk about research I'm doing for books I'm currently writing, as well as keep you sort of up to date on what I'm writing - just in case you are interested. Well, if you check this blog on any sort of regular basis (highly doubtful), you know I've been doing a smashing job! Or not.
It's time to admit it. Unless my posts affect me personally somehow and I am emotionally invested in it, it is hard to write them. I wanted to keep this blog away from more personal stuff because - well. A couple reasons.
1: I don't like talking about my writing, particularly when I know the people reading my talking. It is incredibly personal for me. When I talk about my writing, I feel like I am opening my heart and laying it out for people to stomp on. So I thought if I only talked about research, I could fulfill the requisite "must have online writing presence to get published" without showing people I know who I am.
2: I am linking to this blog on my social media, which means that friends and family might actually click on that someday and read this. I am fearful that if they find out about my true love - writing - and that even though I've loved it since I was 8 I still haven't had anything real published, they will think of me as a failure.
3.: Everyone thinks they are a writer. Anytime someone mentions that they have written/are writing/want to write a book, everyone else in hearing distance pipes up, eager to talk about how they, too, want to write a book and be a writer. And somehow, it gets frustrating for me to hear everyone around me talk about it as though they understand what it is to actually be a writer. Most people who "want to write a book" have no idea of the constant emotional turmoil people who are wired as writers suffer. Of the struggle through lack of inspiration, the simultaneous hatred and love of every sentence put down. The fear of doing it and inability not to. Of actually being a writer. Not just writing. And I want to explain it to them, but again, I don't. Because I'm afraid.
Overall - it is just fear. My closer friends know that fear - and especially fear of failure - is my old enemy. I like getting things right on the first try. And if I don't think I will, I am less likely to even try. Except when it comes to writing itself.
So, anyway. All this to say, I'm going to try (once again) to overcome my constant fear of failure and update this blog based not just on research, but my personal life in writing. Because, published or not - open heart or not - it is who I am. And I would write even if I knew I would never be published. So it's time for me to get over it.
It's time to admit it. Unless my posts affect me personally somehow and I am emotionally invested in it, it is hard to write them. I wanted to keep this blog away from more personal stuff because - well. A couple reasons.
1: I don't like talking about my writing, particularly when I know the people reading my talking. It is incredibly personal for me. When I talk about my writing, I feel like I am opening my heart and laying it out for people to stomp on. So I thought if I only talked about research, I could fulfill the requisite "must have online writing presence to get published" without showing people I know who I am.
2: I am linking to this blog on my social media, which means that friends and family might actually click on that someday and read this. I am fearful that if they find out about my true love - writing - and that even though I've loved it since I was 8 I still haven't had anything real published, they will think of me as a failure.
3.: Everyone thinks they are a writer. Anytime someone mentions that they have written/are writing/want to write a book, everyone else in hearing distance pipes up, eager to talk about how they, too, want to write a book and be a writer. And somehow, it gets frustrating for me to hear everyone around me talk about it as though they understand what it is to actually be a writer. Most people who "want to write a book" have no idea of the constant emotional turmoil people who are wired as writers suffer. Of the struggle through lack of inspiration, the simultaneous hatred and love of every sentence put down. The fear of doing it and inability not to. Of actually being a writer. Not just writing. And I want to explain it to them, but again, I don't. Because I'm afraid.
Overall - it is just fear. My closer friends know that fear - and especially fear of failure - is my old enemy. I like getting things right on the first try. And if I don't think I will, I am less likely to even try. Except when it comes to writing itself.
So, anyway. All this to say, I'm going to try (once again) to overcome my constant fear of failure and update this blog based not just on research, but my personal life in writing. Because, published or not - open heart or not - it is who I am. And I would write even if I knew I would never be published. So it's time for me to get over it.
Saturday, August 13, 2016
Ethrill Excerpt
I started a post on lace tucks and then realized the internet held very little information about that subject or regency necklines in general - and least information that I felt was sufficient for a post. So I am holding off on that one. Then I thought about posting about regency era clothing, dances, rag curls, and a multitude of other things because I knew I should post something, but honestly? I don't feel like coming up with an intelligent post today. However, rather than making the nonexistent people who read this wait to read another post, I've decided to post an excerpt from the book I am currently writing. Enjoy!
“Quickly now.” The bartender turned from a happy-go-lucky, eager to get a coin, man to a nervous, fast-moving man, looking about the empty small room as though to ensure no one was lurking in a corner. He virtually pushed us toward the bar where he reached under the counter and pulled a lever. The shelving holding the various drink offerings immediately parted, showing a small room. We scurried through, well aware that if anyone chose that moment to enter, all would be lost. As though the realization alone were enough to make it happen, a voice screeched from behind us.
“Stop! You are all traitors and will be punished in the name of Damanius!”
Whirling almost as one, we were simultaneously relieved and horrified to see only Dave standing there, eyes blazing, her hand raised as though that alone could make us stop.
“Grab her.” Hadwin did not even hesitate to give the order to the bartender, who just as quickly had his large hand wrapped around Dave’s mouth before she could utter another sound. Dave was unceremoniously dragged into the room with us. The bartender deposited her into Hadwin’s small but wiry arms and left us, closing the door to the hidden room as he went back to his duties.
“What now?” I asked, as Hadwin kept a surprisingly strong grip on the woman, who at first had been too stunned at our audacity to do anything and was now struggling like cat in water.
“She’ll have to come with us until we are out of Damanius’ reach.” His face showed the briefest traces of a grimace as Dave bit down , managing to capture some of the skin of his hand. He leaned down and whispered something into her ear, and the vicious bundle suddenly dropped into unconsciousness. With some relief, Hadwin dropped her to the floor, gently massaging his injured hand and not bothering to break her fall.
“What did you do?” I asked, somewhat fearfully.
“Don’t worry.” He looked a little disgusted at the concern in my voice. “She’s just asleep. See if you can find some ropes and material for a gag. We are going to have to make sure she doesn’t escape or yell for help. This may make things more difficult.”
He looked at Ari, who had watched the proceedings with uncharacteristic silence. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, sir.” She answered respectfully. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at her tone of solicitude. “We may proceed as soon as you see fit.”
“Will it be an issue if we leave earlier than planned? Her presence complicates matters. We cannot wait long before she is missed, and that is assuming she did not have backup with her."
I looked around while this conversation was taking place and noted that the little room was stocked with a surprising amount of a variety of provisions. A lot of preserved food items, water, ale, blankets, and a multitude of other items one might need to survive. One crate held several pieces of rope. I silently handed Hadwin a goodish piece and a torn piece of material from a cloth that had been used to wrap some food items. He quickly shoved them into a sack near at hand. “Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to tie her up?”
“Not yet.” Hadwin did not bother to expound and I got the sense that it was not the best time to ask additional questions. He nodded at Ari, who flew over to the wall and disappeared through a tiny crack near the floor boards that I hadn’t even noticed. As soon as she disappeared, Hadwin leaned down and hoisted Dave up. “Help me with her. It needs to look like she is just drunk.”
I quickly moved around and supported her other side. As if on cue, the bartender opened the door again, this time just enough for us to slip through, closing it immediately behind us, and pressed a packet into my hand. “Good luck.” He whispered and then turned back to the bar, busily preparing for the customers he did not yet have.
“Quickly now.” The bartender turned from a happy-go-lucky, eager to get a coin, man to a nervous, fast-moving man, looking about the empty small room as though to ensure no one was lurking in a corner. He virtually pushed us toward the bar where he reached under the counter and pulled a lever. The shelving holding the various drink offerings immediately parted, showing a small room. We scurried through, well aware that if anyone chose that moment to enter, all would be lost. As though the realization alone were enough to make it happen, a voice screeched from behind us.
“Stop! You are all traitors and will be punished in the name of Damanius!”
Whirling almost as one, we were simultaneously relieved and horrified to see only Dave standing there, eyes blazing, her hand raised as though that alone could make us stop.
“Grab her.” Hadwin did not even hesitate to give the order to the bartender, who just as quickly had his large hand wrapped around Dave’s mouth before she could utter another sound. Dave was unceremoniously dragged into the room with us. The bartender deposited her into Hadwin’s small but wiry arms and left us, closing the door to the hidden room as he went back to his duties.
“What now?” I asked, as Hadwin kept a surprisingly strong grip on the woman, who at first had been too stunned at our audacity to do anything and was now struggling like cat in water.
“She’ll have to come with us until we are out of Damanius’ reach.” His face showed the briefest traces of a grimace as Dave bit down , managing to capture some of the skin of his hand. He leaned down and whispered something into her ear, and the vicious bundle suddenly dropped into unconsciousness. With some relief, Hadwin dropped her to the floor, gently massaging his injured hand and not bothering to break her fall.
“What did you do?” I asked, somewhat fearfully.
“Don’t worry.” He looked a little disgusted at the concern in my voice. “She’s just asleep. See if you can find some ropes and material for a gag. We are going to have to make sure she doesn’t escape or yell for help. This may make things more difficult.”
He looked at Ari, who had watched the proceedings with uncharacteristic silence. “Is everything ready?”
“Yes, sir.” She answered respectfully. I raised my eyebrows in surprise at her tone of solicitude. “We may proceed as soon as you see fit.”
“Will it be an issue if we leave earlier than planned? Her presence complicates matters. We cannot wait long before she is missed, and that is assuming she did not have backup with her."
I looked around while this conversation was taking place and noted that the little room was stocked with a surprising amount of a variety of provisions. A lot of preserved food items, water, ale, blankets, and a multitude of other items one might need to survive. One crate held several pieces of rope. I silently handed Hadwin a goodish piece and a torn piece of material from a cloth that had been used to wrap some food items. He quickly shoved them into a sack near at hand. “Let’s go.”
“Aren’t you going to tie her up?”
“Not yet.” Hadwin did not bother to expound and I got the sense that it was not the best time to ask additional questions. He nodded at Ari, who flew over to the wall and disappeared through a tiny crack near the floor boards that I hadn’t even noticed. As soon as she disappeared, Hadwin leaned down and hoisted Dave up. “Help me with her. It needs to look like she is just drunk.”
I quickly moved around and supported her other side. As if on cue, the bartender opened the door again, this time just enough for us to slip through, closing it immediately behind us, and pressed a packet into my hand. “Good luck.” He whispered and then turned back to the bar, busily preparing for the customers he did not yet have.
Saturday, June 25, 2016
Canp NaNoWriMo and Writing Generally
So, I have a confession. I haven't written anything in - two weeks. It's just been so busy! It's like something is going on every day/night! And by the time night rolls around, I am too tired, or the house needs to be cleaned, or . . . or . . . or . . . yeah, I know, I know, all the normal excuses.
I will say one thing, though. I really miss it now when I don't write. I mean, when I was younger I did as well, and then at first in college, but it slowly wore off during the business and then I was just frankly scared to death to try to write after it had been too long. So, I consider it an improvement that after two weeks of virtually no writing, I do not feel fear when I think about it, but just a need to go do it.
I comfort myself, however, with the knowledge that in July . . . Camp NaNoWriMo is here! What is that you say? Well, you all know about NaNoWriMo, I have no doubt. Camp NaNoWriMo is essentially the same thing, but instead of HAVING to write 50,000 words, you get to choose how many you write, and, if you so wish, you can be part of a small "cabin" of writers who encourage one another. I am too shy to be part of a cabin, unless I can convince my friends Abby and Rissa to join as well, but I am looking forward to the incentive of having a site keep track of my words and whether I "win" or not. I need a push to keep working on my fantasy, Ethrill. I have been doing too much thinking and not enough writing lately.
So if you have been doing too much thinking and not enough writing you should totally try Camp NaNoWriMo too!
I will say one thing, though. I really miss it now when I don't write. I mean, when I was younger I did as well, and then at first in college, but it slowly wore off during the business and then I was just frankly scared to death to try to write after it had been too long. So, I consider it an improvement that after two weeks of virtually no writing, I do not feel fear when I think about it, but just a need to go do it.
I comfort myself, however, with the knowledge that in July . . . Camp NaNoWriMo is here! What is that you say? Well, you all know about NaNoWriMo, I have no doubt. Camp NaNoWriMo is essentially the same thing, but instead of HAVING to write 50,000 words, you get to choose how many you write, and, if you so wish, you can be part of a small "cabin" of writers who encourage one another. I am too shy to be part of a cabin, unless I can convince my friends Abby and Rissa to join as well, but I am looking forward to the incentive of having a site keep track of my words and whether I "win" or not. I need a push to keep working on my fantasy, Ethrill. I have been doing too much thinking and not enough writing lately.
So if you have been doing too much thinking and not enough writing you should totally try Camp NaNoWriMo too!
Thursday, June 9, 2016
Finishing the Book
As you may or may not know, I recently finished my first full length novel - A Picture of the Past (PoP for short). I've finished short books before, but this one was actually full length. 99,000 words, in fact. I finished it - mmmm - probably a month or so ago, and haven't touched it since. It needs SO many edits, that I am kind of scared to pick it up again. So I'm working on a different book instead, while I glance at PoP out of the corner of my eye.
I just finished a couple articles in Writer's Digest about "Plotting vs. Pantsing" - you know, the writer who plots everything before they write vs the writer who just sits down and writes. I seem to fall somewhere in the middle. I seem to like sitting and just writing - and then doing a little mapping out if I get stuck, and going back AFTERWARDS to REALLY map things out. What really scared me about the articles, I think, was the comment in both articles that "Pansters" tend to start novels that really never go anywhere, and as much as I am not sure I liked the completed product of PoP, I love the idea enough that I desperately don't want it to be a dead end. But, even if I didn't completely like the completed product, if I still love the idea enough, that means there still has to be promise in it, right? So, here are a couple tips I pulled out of the article that have actually inspired me to go back and finally take another look at the book and see what I can make out of it:
The article suggested the following extremely useful points:
I just finished a couple articles in Writer's Digest about "Plotting vs. Pantsing" - you know, the writer who plots everything before they write vs the writer who just sits down and writes. I seem to fall somewhere in the middle. I seem to like sitting and just writing - and then doing a little mapping out if I get stuck, and going back AFTERWARDS to REALLY map things out. What really scared me about the articles, I think, was the comment in both articles that "Pansters" tend to start novels that really never go anywhere, and as much as I am not sure I liked the completed product of PoP, I love the idea enough that I desperately don't want it to be a dead end. But, even if I didn't completely like the completed product, if I still love the idea enough, that means there still has to be promise in it, right? So, here are a couple tips I pulled out of the article that have actually inspired me to go back and finally take another look at the book and see what I can make out of it:
The article suggested the following extremely useful points:
- If you are feeling stuck make a list of events in your story, leaving blanks as needed.
- Once you know how to get from your stopping point to the next fixed point, quit plotting and go back into pantsing.
- Don't try to list every single event and line of dialogue when making a list.
- Imagine you're the protagonist and ask yourself what you would do next (I already do this a lot and it DOES help a lot).
- If you know where the plot needs to go, ask why your characters get to that point and keep repeating the question until you work backwards to where it all fell apart.
- Retroactively plot the story.
- Be open to reworking parts of your novel - if it isn't working, try "pantsing" the part to see if it goes in another direction.
One thing I appreciated and agreed with, was this sentence at the end of the second article:
"The trick is to get the story down, from beginning to end. Ultimately, the writers who get published are those who finish the first draft and then revise it. Get the words on the page and you're halfway there."
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)