May, 2010
Shiny new toys!
It’s been a while since I posted, mostly because I got hit with the WIP blues, and I’ve been busy working and rewriting. I’ve just gotten to the point where I’ve resurfaced, marginally happier with it and ready to keep going. At some point I’m going to post about how I combat said blues, because the technique might end up being helpful to other folks, but for now, I’ll leave you with this.
Some of you may know about the idea I had recently, that has quickly blossomed into something that is, I am nearly 100% positive, going to be the project I work on once I finish my WIP and get it out there into queries. It’s come and gone, been through one serious “I can’t write it, damn” moment, and survived. It’s still very much in that vulnerable, pre-story mode where looking at it too hard will make it burst like a soap bubble, but I did write a scene from it last week that kept looming and distracting me from THE IRON WOOD.
I’ve been playing with Wordle for a good chunk of the morning, after seeing it on the LTWF blog, and it occurred to me that it’d make a great tool for teasing a story. So, here is a word cloud formed from 1,000 words of my future project. (Click for a larger version.)
It’s pretty fun–or else I’m just really easily amused. If you end up trying it for your own writing, the results might surprise you (they certainly have with TIW). It’s actually a pretty valuable tool for seeing easily if there’s a word you use too much. *cough* pale *cough*
Happy Anniversary to Me
Today marks the two-month anniversary of my decision to commit one hundred percent to writing.
It’s been a gradual process, building since I was four years old, though the most recent twists in the road have been concentrated over the recent months. The last year has been full of benchmarks, important moments, days I could point to and say “Hey, that was the day I took a step forward.”
Gathering the courage last spring to apply to the Odyssey Writing Workshop, quitting my full-time job in order to go, moving back home to be able to afford the afore-mentioned job quitting. Devoting myself to short stories to improve my craft, despite it not being my passion. Shelving projects that were fun in favor of projects that made me grow. Submitting a story to a magazine for the first time, and getting that first rejection letter. Getting that tenth rejection letter. Going back to novels after a long period without them, and realizing for certain that it was what I wanted to do. Facing up to the fact that novels to which I had committed time and energy and devotion weren’t examples of my best work, and I had to start from scratch.
All of these things have been part of the process over the past year, but two months ago was the hardest and most significant part of it. That was when I got the idea for my current work in progress, and realized that if I ever wanted to see it in print I was going to have to get my act together and commit to this as a career, not just something to do when I felt like it. So every day since then I’ve written at least 500 words a day–and usually significantly more than that–without fail, without skipping a single day. Some days I have really, really had to fight myself. Some nights I’ve sat my computer long past my bedtime with my forehead on my desk going “Glugurluglugurluglug” because all I want to do is sleep but the 45 words I’d written were not enough.
It seems fitting that I’ve just stepped past the 50,000 word mark in my manuscript, two months later. I’m not writing at lightning speed, not when you compare me to some particularly prolific writers, but it’s a steady pace, and I’ll be done with the first draft in another month or two.
In terms of a lifelong career, two months isn’t very long. But it marks something else for me, which I didn’t know I had: discipline. I was pretty sure I didn’t have it, because I can be a pretty lazy person, and I had that nagging suspicion that it would be the line between me and success. Turns out, though, that discipline’s really a decision, not a quality you either possess or don’t. Two months writing every day without a break is long enough to prove that I have it in spades, and that the only thing standing between me and success is time. Well, okay, and luck, but let’s not focus on that just now. Just now, I’m letting myself celebrate a little bit.
Happy anniversary, me. Good job. Keep it up. Go have some ice cream or something. Just don’t take too long, because you have to come back and sit down and do your writing for today.
What, did you think you were going to get a break?
Writing Break: Kitties!
As those of you who know me can attest, I am definitely a cat person. I’ve had cats since I was a baby and pretty much always will. I wouldn’t precisely call myself a crazy cat lady–for one thing I’m not really old enough yet–but I definitely do love them.
While pursuing writing, I work part time and volunteer part time. Luckily for me, I get to do both of those things in the same place–I work for my living at a transcription and word processing company whose owners also happen to be cat enthusiasts, who run the fabulous new feline rescue foundation, Tails High.
It’s currently kitten season, which means we have kittens coming out of our ears. The wonderful thing about kittens is that as fast as they come in, we find homes for them. No one can resist a kitten. But in the midst of kitten season, it’s easy for potential adopters to forget about the sometimes overlooked kitties–older cats.
This is something I’ve only come to realize lately, but I’ve made up for being a latecomer to the idea by being quite devoted to it. There are tons of reasons to adopt an older cat. Some of the top ones, for me, are:
Kittens will always find a home. They’re always in high demand, because they’re cute. But because it’s harder to find homes for older cats, by adopting one of them you’d be doing a wonderful thing. And it’s not just charity–taking the time to get to know the older cats at your local rescue will pay off, because you can find a cat who will be a companion for you, not just a pet. If you’ve been thinking about adopting a cat and your heart is set on kittens, I definitely won’t discourage you. I know that I’ve always adopted kittens in the past, because I didn’t realize what I was missing out on. I also know that the next cat I adopt will very likely be an older cat. But if you’re wondering about whether to get kittens or an older cat, definitely take your time with the decision. There are a ton of reasons to go with older cats — these are just a few!
And if you live in the D.C./Virginia area, definitely check out the Tails High website for the current cats available (I’ve put pictures of a couple of them below!) And if you’re someone who’s been thinking about adopting, fostering, volunteering at your local rescue, whatever, feel free to ask me questions!
And for those of you who are going “Um, where’d the writing blog go?” I’ll be back tomorrow with a post about writing, never fear.
Sorry, I can’t talk to you right now. I’ve just changed into my writin’ pants.
We all have weird things that help us or hinder us when we’re writing. A non-writer might say, “Yeah, okay, so you say you need to have six perfectly-sharpened pencils lined up next to a notepad exactly four inches away from your keyboard, but that’s all in your head, right?”
HAH, I say to that. Of course it’s all in our heads. But we’re writers. Everything we do comes right out of our heads, so why should it be surprising that we get so tangled up inside our headspace? Artists are basically the only people who get to be totally neurotic on account of it being their job to be a wacko.
Josephine March had a hat she wore when writing her manuscripts. I have a pair of pants. I have had since I was fourteen. No, they’re not the same pants (as much as I’d love to pretend I could still fit into the pants I wore when I was that age) but they might as well be. Loose, stretchy waistband, baggy legs, worn in to the point of blankie-soft fabric. I actually have to break them in before I can write in them — I can’t wear new pants while writing, no matter how originally comfy they are. Usually it’ll be a pair of pajama or yoga pants that get worn in to the point of becoming writin’ pants. This process often takes years.
Now, I wouldn’t say I have to be wearing them to write. I don’t think I have to have anything to write. I can sit in an empty room, naked, with no pens or keyboards in sight and still write (although it’d probably be hard for anyone else to read what’s etched into the walls with my fingernails). But my writin’ pants definitely do help. I also love to have a soda (Diet Dr. Pepper by choice) on hand as a reward when I hit a certain word count, and I absolutely love it when it’s raining. I open my window, no matter the temperature, and listen to the rain. There’s a euphoric excitement about that sound and that smell that just makes the words pour out of me.
I always sit a certain way: one leg folded under me, the other with my knee drawn up to my chest. Curled up this way, often wrapped in a blanket or bathrobe with just my hands peeping out to touch the keyboard, is how I spend vast portions of my life.
I can’t have snacks on hand, because I love to watch TV while I eat, and if there’s a snack around I’ll have the urge to stop writing to eat and watch something while I do. I also can’t have music playing. I wish I could. I make playlists that go with certain stories and novels of mine, but I can’t listen while I write or I get distracted by the story in the music. I need silence. I listen to my playlists in the car or in the shower, where I do a lot of my daydreaming and idea-fashioning. I listen to them before writing sessions, to put myself in the mood.
I’m a total weirdo when it comes to writing. This is really just the tip of the iceberg. I love that about myself. Everyone likes to be unique and different, so long as they’re not TOO different; the nice thing about being a writer is that all writers are total weirdos. I might be an oddball but at least I’m in good company.
Do you guys have weird habits to get your creative juices flowing? I know you do. Let’s hear ‘em.
(P.S. Lurkers, this means you. You know who you are. Either you’re a friend and you don’t comment because you can just IM me later, or you’re a stranger who found your way here via the blog of a friend of mine, and you don’t comment because you don’t know me. Well, suck it up. I want to hear from you, and I don’t bite! And hey, if you drop a line, then you won’t be a stranger anymore.)
Correspondence from the Front: WIP Excerpt
Hey folks! In honor of Teaser Tuesday, I’ve decided to post a scene from my current work in progress, which has the working title THE IRON WOOD. I’ve chosen a scene out of the middle of the book, but it’s an action-y sort of scene that hopefully doesn’t require too much context.
All you need to know is that Lark, our heroine, has untapped and previously unknown magical abilities and is on the run from the scientific Facility that wants to turn her into a magical battery for the rest of her life. She’s discovered that in the wilderness lie pockets of highly concentrated magic, which serve to camouflage her from the Facility’s machines: half-magic, half-clockwork creations called pixies. When she steps inside the magical, violet-tinted pocket to escape, she discovers a forest unlike anything she’s ever seen. Lulled by its beauty and the sense that for the first time in weeks she’s at least temporarily safe, she falls asleep…
When I woke, night was falling outside the barrier…