That damned asterisk
Well, I guess it had to end some time. And no, I'm not referring to whatever important event that's going on in the extroverted world. I'm talking about my weekly writing streak. Yesterday, I wrote, and it was the only time I worked at that all weekend and I only completed two chapters of the three. I didn't even make up for it this morning; I didn't even try.
On the one hand, it feels appropriate to list all the different things that led to the breaking of the streak of six months, the friends in hospitals, the power outages, the quasi family crises, but on the other hand, I wonder at the difference between an excuse and a reason. That's the line from the movie: it's not an excuse, it's a reason. And I can't say whether I have either or both, and ultimately those sorts of things are tools to get a given person to forgive us our mistake. And the only person I need to placate on this matter is me. Simply complicated.
Despite being late, and pressed though, I came away confident about the writing I did do. There's scripted to be two chapters left of each book, and an epilogue, which is roughly three more weeks of work. I ought to be able to fulfill my goal of being done before August, even with this setback. I'm getting a little better at not rushing, too. I realized I was getting ahead of myself when I was thinking about writing before I thought about what I'd be creating, and taking a quick step back, I noticed that I was leaving some important bits out. No point in coming all this way to screw it up at the end, I figure.
And on that note I came across an interesting conundrum of character. In the middle of a scene, I had a character freaking out over a situation, and had to stop myself, had to force myself to think "would this character freak out over this?" and to answer yes or no had to give a few moments to the character's cumulative experience, and personality, and mindset. I was a little dissappointed to come away with the realization that I didn't actually know her all that well. Still, those sorts of things can be notated and worked through in future edits (that is, if one is conscious about those notes and committed to those edits).
But all in all, I had a lot of pratfalls this weekend. I was paid a compliment by a writer friend who told me to 'take a break' because I was 'working too hard.' At least, I took it as a compliment. I imagine that when people say that, it means one's hard work has been noticed, and I would much rather be chided for working too hard than derided for not working hard enough.
I'm also finally on twitter. I have no idea how to use it, or what I'm supposed to be tweeting. I had the idea to put some poetry on there. Though, nothing I think of feels even an inch short of pretentious.
On the one hand, it feels appropriate to list all the different things that led to the breaking of the streak of six months, the friends in hospitals, the power outages, the quasi family crises, but on the other hand, I wonder at the difference between an excuse and a reason. That's the line from the movie: it's not an excuse, it's a reason. And I can't say whether I have either or both, and ultimately those sorts of things are tools to get a given person to forgive us our mistake. And the only person I need to placate on this matter is me. Simply complicated.
Despite being late, and pressed though, I came away confident about the writing I did do. There's scripted to be two chapters left of each book, and an epilogue, which is roughly three more weeks of work. I ought to be able to fulfill my goal of being done before August, even with this setback. I'm getting a little better at not rushing, too. I realized I was getting ahead of myself when I was thinking about writing before I thought about what I'd be creating, and taking a quick step back, I noticed that I was leaving some important bits out. No point in coming all this way to screw it up at the end, I figure.
And on that note I came across an interesting conundrum of character. In the middle of a scene, I had a character freaking out over a situation, and had to stop myself, had to force myself to think "would this character freak out over this?" and to answer yes or no had to give a few moments to the character's cumulative experience, and personality, and mindset. I was a little dissappointed to come away with the realization that I didn't actually know her all that well. Still, those sorts of things can be notated and worked through in future edits (that is, if one is conscious about those notes and committed to those edits).
But all in all, I had a lot of pratfalls this weekend. I was paid a compliment by a writer friend who told me to 'take a break' because I was 'working too hard.' At least, I took it as a compliment. I imagine that when people say that, it means one's hard work has been noticed, and I would much rather be chided for working too hard than derided for not working hard enough.
I'm also finally on twitter. I have no idea how to use it, or what I'm supposed to be tweeting. I had the idea to put some poetry on there. Though, nothing I think of feels even an inch short of pretentious.
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