I'm Not Actually Writing...

... but I felt compelled to check in anyway. I've been doing a ton of reading late late late into the night so I can walk around like a bleary-eyed monster during the day. I've been taking an online economics course that fiiiiiiiinally finished on July 3. YESTERDAY WAS MY INDEPENDENCE DAY!!! (This is why my reading was limited to late late late into the night.) And I've been looking for a place to live, as I start a new job in three weeks and I still have no place to live. :[

If I've read once, I've read a gabillion times that writers need to write, and we need to make time to write, and so-and-so wrote her first novel by getting up at 3am and writing for two hours straight while, I'm assuming, she was hooked up to an IV of coffee and meth. I'm assuming it's in my genes to feel guilty about things I'm not doing, like getting up at 3am to write for two hours before I trudge off to work or for not setting aside my econ homework after two hours in order to read notes for an hour.

The thing is, the more I feel guilty about it, the less likely I am to come back to it, because I'm going to hide from whatever it is that's making me feel guilty. So instead I'm facing my guilt and my writing head on and I'm saying that I need to focus on finding a place to live, because my book will either be published or it won't... but whether I get up in the morning hours after I've turned off the light or not, it will be published or it won't.

So I can either make myself feel like crap about it, or I can focus on things I need to focus on and stay out of the bubbling cauldron of self-loathing that is typically created by all that guilt.

I've made my choice, and I'm sticking with it.

Inspiration

I was watching the PBS presentation of Les Miserables (and sobbing my eyes out) today and it occurred to me that I may have gotten my obsession with revolutions from that musical. Hear me out! What's my favorite moment (after every single Eponine moment)? "Do You Hear the People Sing" and how they're all RAWR let's go make a revolution! Since then I've enjoyed learning about revolutions and people changing governments. Which inspires my current manuscript and my reading choices. It's not so much the idea of a dystopia or utopia or anything else - it's the fascinating idea that there's a way to say, "Things are wrong, let's change them." And I'd rather read about it in fiction than know that people are getting hurt fighting that same battle. (I'm looking at you, Syria.)

Anyway, that reminded me that I haven't written in the blog for a little while, which also maybe slowed down because I haven't been as inspired to write in general as I had been. But not writing here felt a little like hiding - since I hadn't been working vigorously on any particular works in progress, I should somehow not bring myself around here to say anything.

But after watching today's performance (I wish I had found it on youtube!), I at least want to get back to writing some more. Or maybe it was just watching Eponine singing again. Who knows?

One and (not) done

I finished the first major revision of my novel last night. This morning I immediately jumped back in and began cleaning things up. Little things like making sure that I'm following the rules for eventual manuscript submission, and big things, like making sure that I'm not using a dozen words to say what should only take five.

It's been an interesting transition, coming from a place where the constant upward motion of my word count was a point of glee. Now the opposite occurs - as my word count falls from 66- to 65- to 64- to 63-thousand words, I feel that same glee knowing that I'm making the remaining words stronger. I'm forcing myself to send the draft over to beta readers without doing a third run-through, because like many beginning authors, I can probably go through and re-edit until I wheeze out my last breath.

That got depressing.

Lest I be concerned about leaving this world behind, as I go through on this second revision and figure out exactly what my characters are supposed to be doing and saying, the sequel is already developing in my head. Which is great, because I'm not ready to say goodbye Elleigh, Zee, and Officer Ray just yet. Oh no, we need another 60k words together, at least.

Development

This blog post has been bouncing around in my head for quite a while, which is going to be my excuse for shying away from writing in a blog that nobody actually reads anyway. I've been working in earnest to better develop my characters. I'm using background exposition, dialog, and action to do this, and I'm enjoying where this new information about my characters is taking me and this novel. I also like the direction that this new information is taking the novel.

Better yet, I'm feeling more and more confident with the novel. As I flesh things out I have more and more instances where I can sit back and be proud of what I've done. I'm also finding that in a lifestyle full of revelry and merriment, hanging out with girlfriends, and cleaning up at pub trivia, I'm at my best when I'm sitting in front of my laptop and fleshing out my characters. I feel at my best, at my most comfortable, the most alive when I'm developing my characters. This feels like personal character development - I'm developing my me.

My 40-hour a week job leaves me cranky and crotchety and hating the world. It feels good to come "home" to something that I love and that I feel like I'm genuinely good at. I feel better and more like myself when I'm working on my novel, so even if it never goes anywhere, I'll still have gotten the world out of writing it.

Delete delete delete

Yesterday I did some major cutting, which hurt my heart. I was so proud and, I'll admit it, so in awe of my brilliance. I carried around the scar on my heart all day afterward, and into the morning. Then today I revised one of my favorite scenes, cleaning it up and giving it some style. Today I know that this favorite section of mine is stronger for the cutting that I did yesterday.

It's a good reminder that when we take out passages that don't belong - no matter how UH-MAY-ZING we think they are when we're writing them or re-reading them. By removing what doesn't belong, we're increasing the value of what does belong. So I'll delete delete delete to my heart's desire!

And if I can't delete delete delete, then I'll at least cut and paste into a blank document to slip under my pillow for the too-much-detail fairy.

Show & Tell

I'm struggling right now with showing and not telling. I have this whole world built up in my head, with a constitution (no amendments, it was done right the first time), and a social order, and a judicial system, and castes and... and everything. It's all there, in my head and scribbled into my notebooks interspersed in scenes. I already know that the best way to get this information across is to do it slowly, in bits and pieces as the reader moves through the novel. This is easier said than done.

I'm also having difficulty with being a lady, and not showing too much. Just because the information isn't part of a three-page expositional word-vomit (new phrase!), that doesn't mean that it's suddenly okay. As I go through and make my revisions, I find myself highlighting and deleting one and two paragraphs at a time - yes, just one and two. They're these little gems of information that put the characters into more of a context, but this isn't a history textbook, this is a novel.

My response to this is to go through and find new places to put more action and dialog. I'm not talking about using dialog to tell this same information, but to put more actual action into the pages. Right now the characters are shackled by my own world building, so really, these revisions are a rescue mission to save my novel from early burial.

Satellite office

I like leaving the house so I can get work done. When I'm home I don't feel guilty for wasting my time like surfing through Facebook, cleaning out my Kindle account, or looking for new employment. Sitting in the Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf or Paradise Bakery I feel like I have to justify my butt being in the seat. Empty tables all around me, nobody waiting to order, and still I feel like doing something that isn't part of the writing process is somehow a blow to whatever place I happen to be patronizing.

On the other hand, if I stay at home I usually don't get any work done because it offends Pippin. If Pippin is one of the best things to ever happen to me (he is), he's also one of the worst things to ever happen to my writing. I can be wandering around the house, knitting, playing computer games, reading, whatever and he leaves me alone. As soon as he sees me writing in a notebook or typing on the laptop, he needs to stake his claim in me.

Don't get me wrong. I love having his furry little body curled up on my lap. When I first adopted him, I assumed that he'd sit at the end of the couch, or behind me, or maybe maybe he'd curl up beside me and sleep. Instead I spend most nights with a mound of black fur and a few sparse spots sprawled out on top of me. He's really the most precious.

So I end up contributing to the service sector of the economy by grabbing a table somewhere and getting my writing done. And usually drinking way too much coffee. So if you need me, I'll be the one in the back of CB&TL bouncing off the walls and sometimes landing on the keyboard.

Now what?

I finished the first draft of my novel this weekend. I'm walking around a little numb, knowing what I need to do next and feeling nervous about starting the next step. Really what's on my mind is finding some beta readers who aren't going to be worried about hurting my feelings.

Really what I need to do is sit down and seriously work on editing and adding. I know what I want to include in there and all that needs to be added, and now I just need to get to it. I just wish I could carry around a notebook and do that, like I'm used to doing.

(picture from http://www.todayandtomorrow.net/2009/04/06/the-end/)