One hundred twenty thousand more words

If only questions were currency. This past weekend I had a wild hair. I thought: "I have so relatively little left to write, I can do it in a week, right? Oh, but what if I can't? Maybe I should get started now, that way any extra time on the back end is free." So I did. I wrote one chapter, then another, then another. Three days later, I edited the draft the 25th chapter of one of three books, each with 25 chapters. Aside from the epilogues that lead off into elsewhere, I have finally finished the goal I set out to achieve earlier this year. Go me.

Last night I dreamed about Iron Man 2. I can recall seeing an extended trailer for the movie, and that's all I've seen of it. Last night, a dream I had was a contrived scene from the movie (I don't actually know that, it was dream logic) and I woke up wondering why that happens. The cool answer is that I've gotten so much practice at taking stories and seeing where they go, I can literally do it in my sleep. How weird would it be to go see the movie in question (which I will) and for the scene to my dream be on the screen?

Words from the writer's group meeting echo to me. One of my fellows talked about the divide between writing that is free that can be given away, that thousands upon thousands will read, and being able to sell that same writing to an editor or publisher (via agent or not). The latter group considers trends and popularity, tries to predict what is hot, and what isn't, what will sell and what won't. The former group just likes to read good stories. The group mate digressed slightly, because his example was fanfiction, and he spent a while saying how my work was so much better than fanfiction, and yet...  the rejections keep on coming. That's just how it goes, is that what the saying is?

Over pizza I talked with a friend about some of my characters, and he didn't exactly said I did my stories the wrong way, his statement sounded more like "I've yet to read someone's writing where they do it the right way, or at least in a way that I find interesting and believable." He's one of the few whom I cannot seem able to impress with my writing. I told him that very item is on my bucket list. Some of us like to parachute with anvils, apparently. But if you can't make a living while earning the respect and adoration of your friends, then was it all worth it? I mean, I could make a living and not earn my friends' respect working at Office Depot (this is going to become a thing; the weird part is, I shop there).

So this week had some highs, and some lows. I'm well on my way to accomplishing my goal for the week of non work. I think I might even get around to starting one of those sci-fi shorts (the other requires research on a phenomenon called the Big Rip before it can be attempted). Though, I also need to read for the group meeting, as well as keep cracking away at my other friend's manuscript. It's only Monday. Would it be presumptuous calling this thing a draw?

Comments

  1. Yeah, I'm with you on how to make a living. Though of course, I respect you and your talents independent of what publishers or the public think.

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