Tag Archives: writing

It’s not as bad as I thought

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It bleeds! It hurts! It – it’s not that bad. Huh! I expected it to be harder to cut things out, but one I started, it was quite easy. I’ve just now started chapter three, and there’s one section that I want to move until later, but there’s a chance I’ll cut the scene completely. It’s seven pages showing the reason my protagonist left her ex many years before. I’m still not sure about that. I’ll see where the story leads me, and if it’s necessary, I’ll find the right place.

I’m glad I chose to print it out, for the umpteenth time. It’s so much easier when I have an actual document in my hands. It makes it real somehow, more real than the glow of a computer screen can manage. I get a thrill seeing my words on paper. It’s magical and euphoric. I can’t wait until it’s printed and bound in an actual book, ready to be read by the masses. I hope it finds an audience.

But I’ll try not to get ahead of myself, which I really have a bad habit of doing. I want to finish chapter three before bed. I want to do at least two chapters a day, more if time allows. A two-hour round trip to work sure makes life harder, but I’ll do what I have to in order to move on to the next phase. I wonder what the next phase will be.

 

Making the cut

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I’m going through my book, again, and mercilessly slashing it to bits. I have a bad habit of keeping things in solely because I wrote it. I’m a genius, after all. Only I’m not. I can’t even fool myself into thinking that.

I don’t know how many times I’ve read and reread each single line. Some are great, some need a little bit of polishing, and some are crap. On one particular paragraph I added this little note: Who cares?! Shorten or delete paragraph! There are other lines and paragraphs that I have marked as needing to be cut out. Those parts have bothered me, but I resisted. Enough is enough! I’m taking care of business now.

I’m finding it difficult to delete those words I worked so hard to write. I’m discovering that not everything I wrote is worth saving. I say I’m discovering that fact, but the truth is that I already knew. I guess what I should say is that I’m finally accepting that I need to be a little more discerning as to what makes the final cut of the story.

I’ve read, and I’ve cut, and I’ve rewritten and finagled spelling, grammar, syntax and I’m still not satisfied. As a whole, I’m pleased with the story, but there are those places that cause me distress. I’ve reprinted the whole book, or I’m in the process of doing so, and it comes in at 400 pages, double-spaced. I want to trim that down some.

I’m only on the second chapter, but I’ve managed to cut out maybe a thousand words. I’ve cut out a secondary character’s story arc, one that adds nothing to move the plot forward. There’s another character that needs to be rewritten. I haven’t figured out how I’m going to do that. It’s a puzzle that I need to put together, and I have no idea how the finished picture is supposed to look like. I’m a little stressed.

I’m going to continue reading and making my notes, tweaking it so that I can finally send it to someone to proofread. I’ll correct as many of those as I can find, but I’m sure there has to be several stupid mistakes per page. I can’t wait to be done with this. Why did I think I could do this? I must be mad.

I’m also really tired.

Recharged and looking forward

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I haven’t been updating as frequently as I should. I’m sorry about that. It’s just that I haven’t had much going on as of late. I didn’t feel like repeating myself. My posts were becoming redundant. I felt that taking some time away was the right thing to do.

So now I’m back, feeling recharged, and raring to go. My vacation was relaxing, though too short. I’m back at work now, and even there I’m wondering if there’s a change in my future. I wish I could elaborate, but I’m not sure what it is. It’s just a general sense that change is on the horizon. Maybe it’s a move up, a lateral more, or me deciding to move on, but something is coming.

On that note, I’ve been thinking a bit about my own future. I’ve talked some about how money has never been my prime motivator. It still isn’t, but I’m coming to a point in my life where I need a relatively massive influx of money. I’ll be 39 next month. I want a house, a car, in short, I want my life back on track.

Career-wise, I feel as though I have stalled. I’m comfortable in that I know what I’m doing, and I know my co-workers and feel comfortable around them. Comfort is not enough. I look at my work-in-progress, and I realize that what I want to do is write and maybe make enough to fund my life. I don’t believe I’ll become wealthy, but I would like to make enough to perhaps go back to college.

Retail is a game of numbers, and I don’t have that desire. Again, money is not a motivator. I don’t have a head for business, and though I’m good at what I do, there’s also a lot of things that I fail at, namely customer and co-worker interaction, playing the office-political game, and just doing what I’m told vs. what I think needs to be done. I forget that I’m not free to do my own thing. My manager, as agent of the company I work for, dictates what I do. I hate that.

I’m not clear on what I should do, only that I should do something new. There’s a part of me that yearns for an adventure, a new direction in my life. I have no one in my life, no anchor, nothing to hold me back. There are experiences I want to have. I just need to be bold enough to find them.

Which has always been problematic for me. I’m not what you might consider a go-getter. I’m content, for the most part, to remain at home and chill. I don’t usually need a lot of excitement. I’m best when I have few distractions. I hate being overwhelmed by the world at large. It’s the great paradox of my existence.

I hope to have this figured out soon. I’m ready for a change. I’m also ready to buckle down and get back to writing.

Writing on a Sunday Afternoon

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It’s Sunday. Hallelujah and amen! I’m sitting in a bakery, enjoying a latte and working on my book. I think I may have developed arthritis in my left hand, but it might just be the cold. It’s still chilly outside. Why do they have the a/c on? Regardless, I’m working on my book for the first time in a month, and I’m ready to be done!

I had planned to work on it a little yesterday, but my friend had other plans. Part of that is my fault. I really wanted to go the The Cheesecake Factory for their avocado egg rolls. It was worth driving almost 400 miles. I had to suffer through two pet stores, but I eventually got my egg rolls. Also, I ate a delicious burger, and a beer.

But even before then, having to wait an hour and a half to be seated, we went across the hall at Stonebriar’s Mall to the Barnes & Noble. I don’t know about you, but I get excited when I’m in a bookstore, and a little sad. Excited because of the number of books at my disposal to be read, and sad because of the limited state of my finances.

I didn’t let that deter me from searching, finding several titles that I need to buy. I always scan the bargain tables first, hoping that a title or two may jump out. Then I see what’s on the best sellers table and new releases. I walk with no clear idea of what I want, only desiring for a book to jump out at me. One did, The Fifth Gospel by Ian Caldwell. I can’t wait to start on it!

My friend also bought a couple of autographed books, Splintered and Unhinged by A.G. Howard. I already bought her an autographed copy of the third book when the author was signing books at the B&N in Amarillo. While there, I couldn’t resist looking to see if my friends might have their books in stock. Sadly, they didn’t have them in the store. Oh well.

Still, I see in the bookstore an indwelling space of knowledge and entertainment. I’ve met a few authors, most just at the beginning of their careers, but exciting nonetheless. This is what I’ve chosen to work towards, to have my own writing published, hoping and waiting for a reader to spend their hard-earned money to read what I have to say. That, I believe, would be satisfying and humbling.

Until then, I’ll labor in obscurity, honing my craft, working towards that moment when I’ll be ready to put myself out there to be read, to be enjoyed and criticized. It is at once scary and exciting. I want to enjoy this for a moment longer. Maybe, God willing, I’ll find some small measure of success. I can only hope and dream for it. No, that’s not true. I’ll also have to work to earn it. So be it.

I need to get away

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My work schedule has been posted and beginning next Friday at 6:00 p.m., I will be off for a week. Actually, I’ll only have six days off, but close enough to a week for me to call it a vacation, my first extended time off in almost two years. I don’t know how to express just how much I need some time away from work, but I suspect you probably know the feeling.

I don’t have any elaborate plans for my time off, other than going down to visit my friend down in the big city. I’m hoping to have time to just zone out and relax, veg out in front of the television, and quite possibly play catch up on my writing. This past two weeks have been brutal for me, healthwise. I haven’t had the energy to do any meaningful work on my writing. I hope to remedy that during my time away.

Also, while I’m down there, I may be forced to play the tourist. It’s amazing just how much there is to see and do in Dallas. What’s more, I lived down there for twelve years and saw none of it. I never went to the Dallas Zoo, or The Arboretum. I never visited Delay Plaza or the Texas Book Depository. I never went to a Texas Rangers game or saw the Dallas Mavericks. And horror of horrors, I never took time to see the Dallas Symphony, see a ballet, or even attend a rock concert. L’horreur!

Seriously, I don’t know what, if anything I’ll do while I’m out-of-town. My only plan is not to think about work, not go to work, and try not to gain weight from sitting around all day doing nothing. I want – no I need! – to spend time working on my book. I keep saying that’s what I want to do, but I keeping allowing life to get in the way. This vacay is for me to decompress and just be me. I deserve it.

Until then, I’ll continue working on my project and hoping I get a little further. I just need to survive ten more days. I think I can make it. I hope I can.

Please help me make it….