Monday kicked my ass at work again. Tipped over on the couch early last night and woke up to Matthew handing the phone to me. It was my mother calling from China. Between the wretched overseas connection and me being dazed from waking from a sound sleep, I don’t remember much of the conversation. Except she wants us to make hotel arrangements for her visit.
Not sure if that triggered it or if it was just not my night for peaceful slumber, but when I went back to sleep, my nightscape was filled with really disturbing, really vivid dreams. Nothing horrifying or nightmarish, just unpleasant. Yuck. I hate that unsettled, surreal feeling in the morning after a night of freaky dreams. Morning is when the dreams go away, dammit.
In better news, my muse has returneth–with a vengeance even. Did about 3500 words on the novel. Yes, the novel. I’ve got the whole thing outlined, but I can’t gauge how long it’s going to be. I’m into chapter ten out of twenty-five, which would seem to indicate about halfway with 20K words solidly in the bag, but the major plot complications are yet to come. It feels more like I’m a third or even a quarter of the way into it. I dunno. It’s going to be shortish as novels go in any case, unless I’m really underestimating chapters eleven through twenty-five, which I probably am.
I need less speculation on the novel’s structure and more writing, dammit. This is very different from writing short stories. 3.5K words would be the bulk of a short story and this was just a bitty-teeny plot/character development portion. It doesn’t help that I suspect the new word countage is mostly crap. I hit flow so didn’t bother going over my initial words-on-page, which are usually extremely raw. I need several passes of my internal editor before my prose even approaches zero draft status. I’m a bit anxious about how bad it probably is since I haven’t produced anything new since Dragon*Con. But, at least I got words on the page.
Also finished the rewrite of my “squicky” story and it’s out. Cut about two hundred words and added in a touch more dialogue for clarity. Let’s see if I can sell this baby. Fly, my little one! Fly!
I’m making writing progress. Rah.
Keep on churning those pages out.
I’m still stuck in neutral.
Love & Hugs,
FahKingNut
The muse can be a bitch, can’t she? Keep courting her. She’s bound to come around!
In better news, my muse has returneth–with a vengeance even. Did about 3500 words on the novel. Yes, the novel. I’ve got the whole thing outlined, but I can’t gauge how long it’s going to be. I’m into chapter ten out of twenty-five, which would seem to indicate about halfway with 20K words solidly in the bag, but the major plot complications are yet to come. It feels more like I’m a third or even a quarter of the way into it. I dunno. It’s going to be shortish as novels go in any case, unless I’m really underestimating chapters eleven through twenty-five, which I probably am.
Wah! Am I infecting people? I know what you mean about that pacing thing. I’ve found it’s really hard to judge how much space I have available b/c I’m not used to having to fill so much–my method at the moment seems to be write lots and figure things out in the draft, then make it more plotalicious in the rewrite. Judging from my comments, I’ve started too slowly, which makes sense with the idea that I’m figuring things out as I write, and ONLY the writing helps me to figure them out.
I need less speculation on the novel’s structure and more writing, dammit.
I very much agree. Something about cranking it out seems to make things clearer in my head.
It’s a whole different animal writing longer works, isn’t it? A lot of the habits I’d established when writing short fiction I’ve had to discard as detrimental to progress–like doing a once-over edit starting from the beginning to get back into the flow when picking up where I left off. Going over 20K words before being able to get new words going is just insane. I feel like in some ways I’m learning how to write all over again. Yuck. But woohoo too. Sort of.
Yeah, it’s fun, isn’t it? A new kind of freedom. And I feel like I’m crossing over some barrier that I couldn’t before. This is my third attempt at a novel, but the first where I’ve really been able to blast through a draft like this.
The first one, I made the mistake of rewriting chapter one too many times, then starting over from scratch more than once. The second time, I outlined, but got bored and felt trapped by the detail I’d plotted out before I knew what the pacing would feel like. I think I’m meant to work the way I am working now–working it out on paper as I write, with only a minimal outline in my head.
What’s your mom doing in China?
She lives there. She used to live in Hong Kong, but moved to China when she re-married.
So, you’re Chinese? I never would have guessed. For indefensible reasons, I’d assumed you were Japanese.
My ethnic background isn’t a big deal to me either which way. I was born and raised in the Midwest with Midwestern sensibilities and values, and I can’t speak or read a syllable of Chinese, so the issue is largely moot.
You need more Hobkin’s hugs OR maybe just more TLC from hubby to let them fly. *grin*