Tag Archives: writing

The time flies by

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Four years ago today I started my blog. I can’t believe it’s been so long! Though most of my post from 2011-2013 have been archived, 396 posts in all, plus the 155 posts still available to be read, that’s 551 times I opened myself up and let people in.

From heartbreak to working towards my goal to be a published writer, I have confided in you my fears, my pain, my struggles to get over they obstacle of the moment. I have shared my hopes and my dreams. I have shared my despair and my joy.

I have no grand plan for the future, other than to continue to do what I’ve been doing. I’ll admit that sometimes I feel like I’m too old to earn any measure of success, but then I realize that it doesn’t matter how old I am. All that matters is that I have finally decided to succeed.

Let’s see where this next year takes us. I’ll continue to write the occasional book review, publish a short story or two, and bring you along as I meander towards my ultimate goal of ruling the world…I mean publishing a book.

For now, I’m going to do some reading for Monday’s book review and perhaps do a little writing of my own. Unfortunately I caught some bug that’s going around so I’m not up to doing much, but I’ll do what I can. Every little thing I do gets me that much closer to what I want, and that makes me happy.

Another of my ideas

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I have a brilliant idea! It’s part of my nature to have them, as I imagine it is for all creative people. The only problem is that they seem to come at the most inopportune times. Sorry idea, I’m busy working on another story and I would like to get something completed for once. You’ll just have to wait.

This idea, however, shouldn’t be relegated to some maybe pile, to be perused when I have nothing else to do. It needs to be fleshed out, organized so that when the time comes, I will be able to begin working on it. Hopefully when I do, I’ll have the same enthusiasm for it as I do now.

For now, I’ve written a brief little synopsis of the story, at least the main story arc. I have several files like this one littering my hard-drives and flash-drives. I’ll open them from time to time to see what I have, and most of the time I can’t figure out what had me so excited with the premise. Will this one suffer the same fate?

Why I write

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68b90b6835021f0ad6345f0be9a77b98The cold glow of the monitor beacons and I sit obediently, but nothing comes. I stare into the abyss, accosted by a million and one ideas simultaneously, each just out of my grasp, and grow frustrated at my inability to articulate a single one.

Resigning myself to a fruitless night, I start to type nonetheless. First a letter, then a word. Soon I have a sentence and moments later a paragraph. I don’t know if it’s coherent or not, I don’t know if it fits in the story, but I continue all the same. Like a waterfall, my thoughts cascade onto the page almost effortlessly. It’s like I’ve lost control and some otherworldly being, a Muse perhaps, has endowed me with that much sought after eloquence.

I type like mad, not bothering to care about grammar or spelling. They can wait. I type and then the page is filled and soon another. I type and I type, giving myself to inspiration, grateful for the gift bestowed onto me, conscious that inspiration is a fickle mistress. I create a world out of nothing, born out of my imagination and the need to say something meaningful.

I write because I must. I write because I dare not lose myself within my own creation. I write so that I can unburden myself. It’s the act of creating that fuels me. It’s the act of discovery, of wondering where my story with go, of where I will take myself that moves me. I have made myself laugh, and I have also made myself cry. I have moved myself and as I write I hope that I touch the reader, should I be lucky enough to find someone willing to read what I write.

But I have no readers yet, just a hope, and not a vain hope I pray. Even should I never find an audience, I fear I will still be compelled to write. I live though the written word. I have lived a thousand lives of men, or characters large and small, of men, women, and children. I have been the hero and the villain. I have seen both heaven and hell.

I write what I want to live, and I write what I have lived. I write of love and hate, of life and death, and I write of hope and despair. Writing is my therapy, my catharsis. I’m a personal writer, and though I may mold my thoughts to fit a certain situation, I can be found in the words that I have written.

So I continue to write, the warm glow of the monitor holding me captive. I write until I’ve been bled dry and I fall away, exhausted yet exhilarated. I leave a piece of me behind in the words that I have written. I want to be known by all, but fear that to be known I will know rejection.

But I will continue to write, to create, to bleed myself onto the screen. The blinking cursor prompts me to continue, but I’m unable at the moment. I’ve given my all for the sake of my sanity, and for sanity’s sake, I withdrawn into myself once more, only to heed the call of my mistress yet again.

The joys of outlining

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That has to be one of my most sarcastic titles I’ve ever written. The joys of outlining…excuse me while I weep silently into my pillow. *Muzak version of Pharrell Williams Happy plays in the background while writer wails miserably into a pillow* Sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m a little tired right now. Maybe I’m still emotional after Seattle’s Super Bowl loss on Sunday. Back to the reason I’m writing today….

I’m working on outlining my book, hoping to get a visual of my story main points and how it fits together so I can rip it apart and put it back together. I’m deconstructing the book scene by scene, highlighting the main points in each. It’s been slowing going so far. I’m only on chapter two, but I also didn’t do a thing yesterday. I’m off from work today, so I play to catch up and get as much done as I possibly can.

I’ve never worked with an outline before. I confess this to my friend who wrote back in astonishment that I could have gotten through college without learning how. In fact I did learn how, but it’s not a practice I’ve kept up with. I always felt that it constrained my writing so I didn’t bother to remember. It’s coming back to me, and I still hate it! But as I put the outline together, I’m grudgingly having to admit that it may be a useful skill to have.

Though I am far from done, I’m convinced this exercise will help me make a better umpteenth draft. There is one scene in particular that bothers me, but not so much that it’s there but rather because of the person to whom the story is being told. I’m hoping to find a better place for it and maybe this process will help me locate it. The other option is to cut it out, which I’m not entirely adverse to, but I believe the back story the scene shows is important. We’ll see how it goes.

If this works, I will apply this process to another book I’ve already written but needs a lot of work. Maybe this is the tool I’ve been needing in order to progress to the next step in my desire to become a published writer. Only time will tell, as the saying goes, but there’s another saying that may be more appropriate. “Get off your fat ass and get to work!”

I think we can all agree those are truly words of wisdom. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have an ass that needs getting off of, but ironically I’ll have to sit on it to get this particular work done.

Beta-Review Blues(?)

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Yesterday I came home to see a message from one of my beta-readers and a PDF of her notes. I felt at once excited and wary by what the notes would contain. Would she like it? Hate it? Tell me to jump off a cliff? It’s like opening a present when you don’t know if the contents will be something awesome or maybe something that will kill you.

“Look! A present!” Opens box and it explodes.
~The end~

I’ll admit that I had a hard time reading it. I was nervous but my doubts were quickly dispelled. She started off being complimentary, stating my book “has a real chance at a main-stream publisher and main-stream audience,”  before going in and giving me her impressions and suggestions. Some I agreed with, others I didn’t, but at no time did she come across as either cruel or condescending. My friend gave me her opinions, the reasons for stating them, and I felt that she truly wants to help me write a great book.

One of the main problems with my present draft, and it’s one that another reader addressed, is that I take too long to get my story started. My hook doesn’t come until chapter six and it needs to be moved a closer to the beginning. There are a few story-lines that need to be reduced or eliminated. Then there’s some behavioral issues that need to be fixed, ones that as a man I never would have thought of but a woman would question immediately. I guess that means I don’t know women as well as I thought! To all my female readers, please don’t roll your eyes at me. Don’t think I didn’t see that.

I also have some opportunities to fix stilted dialogue. I already knew that, by the way. It’s one of my weaknesses in that I can say everything I want to say, as expressively as I want, using language as it ought to be used, and how I have trouble using it in real life. Sometimes it comes out skewed; technically correct but not quite right. I’ll have to do a read-through or a hundred to fix it.

There are a few more suggested corrections, but I don’t want to bog this down by listing everything in the review. Besides, I don’t want to give away the ending. You’ll have to buy the book to see! Every one of her points will be considered and I’m sure I’ll make most, if not all, of the changes she thinks my book needs. I trust her judgment.

And now to the blues part of my review….

I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO! Sorry for yelling, it’s just that I’m sorting out her suggestions, trying to work it out in my head, needing to find a way to implement the changes without destroying the integrity of the whole. I learned that a book is a lot like a tapestry and pulling at one thread can unravel the whole story if one is not careful.

What I’ll need to do is write an outline of what I have and then create an outline of what I want the finished product to be. I’ve never plotted, never outlined, never had an overarching plan of what I want from my story. I may have a general idea in mind, but I’ve been a pantser since I started. If I do this – and by if I mean I’m going to do it – it’ll be a new skill I’ll need to learn.

All that I need now is to decide on a time-frame to finish this. Tentatively, I’ll give myself the rest of the month to get this rewrite done, since I’ve never done this comprehensive a rewrite with suggestions in mind. It’s scary, which is to say exciting, and I can’t wait to start. I also can’t wait to finish it so that I can begin to look for someone to proofread the manuscript, then I can find a cover artist!

Now if only I could find a title!