Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Shines like gold, and never squeaks

A good metaphor I came up with recently to explain my brain (good because it was effective) was that there's a little mouse constantly running on a wheel in my mind, which anything could be affixed to and that without even trying, my mind spins on it until I replace the thought with anything else. As such, the last week has been spent recharging my batteries, which I guess amounts to letting the mouse just run with nothing to turn, and spending moments here and there thinking about what I've decided to do next, which involves putting various related ideas on the wheel, but for limited amounts of time. This morning I woke up and found myself ready to write.

It was a good feeling to track down all the notes I had taken, loose sheets of different color, out-dated flyers or color coded documents on one side, scribbled paragraphs on the other, and put them together. Some of them had sprouted like weeds in the midst of my last project, and I had put them away to sift through later. Gathered with the more organized, detailed bits I had invested in, projecting forward to this very point in time, it all amounted to a good sum of pages of things concerning how the various stories are going, in what directions, at what speeds, etc. Lastly, I looked at the last few chapters of each of the books I'm continuing forward. As I suspected, I found things, specific things, which did not appear in my more general notes. I'm very happy to also say that I came away happily impressed with how I had done things. Not everything of course, but ever since going through that editing phase and coming away with a better understanding of how much can be changed and at which points made things less frantic for me. The urge to change those words, those sentences, and then immediately hunt down every version of the file and exact similar pruning was easily held at bay. I dare say I might just be almost maybe getting the hang of this thing, perhaps.

The overall plan concerning the March release continues forward. I mailed off those interview questions, and a similar post for a different site is being prepared at the back of my brain for writing and submitting (which is more like a malfunctioning refrigerator where things mold, not to be confused with my paragon mouse and his triumphant wheel). I put up another story on fictionaut, one that I was actually sort of proud of. Though, it has yet to garner nearly as many views, and zero comments, so that kind of made the party in my brain a little awkward. Looking back and updating stories I wrote a few years ago seems to be fruitful, though, even if no one else agrees. I'm enjoying it, though it may be that's because I also get to see how much clearer my writing has become. The story in question was hacked down by a few hundred words. I had a problem with over explaining back then, or shall I say more of a problem. A great turning point in my maturation was when people began to accuse me of being a minimalist and not asking me "Have you read Ulysses by James Joyce?" when they read my stuff.

So we're rejoicing all around today, despite the cold and the wet. Go away, rain. Or stay. Today, it matters not to me.

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