Sick Anthea is starting to get better…
I caught a cold last week, and then felt better, and then felt worse, and then felt a LOT worse and took two days off from work trying to sleep it off.
It didn’t work. 
On the third day (Friday), I finally went to the doctor, more because I’d been out from work for three days than that I thought he’d prescribe anything but rest and fluids.
I walked out with a prescription for antibiotics instead, and a few hours later, I started feeling like a shadow of my usual self, rather than just an Anthea-shaped body without even the energy to write.
Fatigue, dizziness, mucous, and a rather annoying cough are still plaguing me, but I’m back to writing, so I’m definitely on the mend. 
Sorry for the long radio silence here, though! I’m working on a project and hope to have big news soon, but I think I’m going to wait til it’s actually done to make any new announcements or bold declarations. There’s no telling, after all, whether I’m really in my right mind yet, or just on my way there. 
Always learning…
Learning what kind of writer I am is a fascinating process.
Sometimes, I’ll write and write, and though the words are fine there’s no real story underneath to hold them together. This usually happens when I think I know what story I want to write.
A lot of writers talk about themselves as a duality – the everyday self who does the grunt work of typing, and the muse, or the writer-brain, or lizard-brain, or the characters, or the story council.
I’m definitely finding that I have the same sensation. That there’s a part of me that can spin magic into a story, and a part of me that can type and edit and spell correctly and remember what the character’s names are, and that successful fiction writing requires a delicate balancing act between the two.
In some ways, I feel like I sit down and start writing, and by doing so I invite my writer-brain to come out and see. I’m coaxing it out, like putting out bits of food to coax a small animal out of its hole. And like that small animal, if I look too closely or too directly at it, then it’ll flee back into its hole and make me start the hole process over again.
But if I manage to coax it out and not scare it off, my writer-brain will start poking at the words I’m writing. Sometimes an image of what happens next will pop into my mind, or I’ll realize something I’ve already written should change in *this* precise way.
Once in a great while, my writer-brain will get confident enough to take over, and then the writing flies but I don’t recognize everything when I read over it again. (Sleep deprivation will also have this effect, but I don’t recommend it.)
But a lot of the time I forget that I’m trying to coax out a shy and temperamental part of my mind, and I write blithely on with no attention to anything else, and then wonder why the story isn’t coming out the way I wanted it to. :-p
Mars, Status Update, and Planning…
First off, happy belated 8th anniversary to the Mars Rover Opportunity! I think it’s so very awesome that it’s still going!
Status Update:
OK, so I haven’t written since Sunday, because of going away for a trade show for work Monday through Wednesday, and being too darned tired to write yesterday or this morning… But leaving that aside, I think my first month has gone very well.
The first draft has 20,528 words, and while it isn’t *finished,* I have a good idea of how the last part of the story goes. So I’m going to settle for writing a summary of what happens next in case I come back to it later, and move on to the next one in accordance with my plan.
I definitely think I’ve learned from the experience of my first month, though nothing solid enough to really talk about. I’m looking forward to what the rest of the year will bring!
Planning:
Speaking of which, for February I’m going to try to pattern my writing as follows:
First week: Introduce the characters, the world, and the key problems, as well as complications.
Second week: The characters try to address their problems and make things worse, but there are hints of what the final resolution will be.
Third week: Achieve the final resolution and tie up loose ends.
Week four: Work on short stories, and maybe put one up for sale on Amazon. This’ll give me a chance to let go of the last long story and its pattern before starting the next one. It’ll also let me start building up a body of work for sale, for readers to find me by.
In fact, I think that’s what I’m going to work on this coming week, as January ends and February begins. I think I might take a fresh look at Changing Course.
I’ve been seeing a lot of short stories published as stand-alones for $0.99, and even bought a couple, so it seems like a more reasonable idea to me than it once did. What do you guys think? A decent way to put stuff out there for new readers to find?
The only shortcut is to start now…
I was thinking about this in yoga class on Tuesday, which was an awesome class where I finally managed to hold a real, full Crow (aka crane) pose for a couple of seconds!
Specifically, I was thinking about how some things I want to accomplish – like writing the sort of novels I’d buy to read, and deepening my yoga practice, and even getting good at my day job – require lots of practice, and slow deepening of strength and skill. There’s simply no short-cut, no way to make it all happen right this minute without all that work.
The shortest path I can take is to start now, if it’s something I’ve been waiting on for some reason, and to keep working on it now, and in each now that I pass through on my way to that unknown future when I achieve my goals.
This is my mind on fatigue…
I park at home, so very tired after an unrestful night, long day, and excellent yoga class. I’m moving a little slow, partly because my body is tired, partly because my mind is tired.
My mind wants to wander, and my body wants to be still.
I loop my work bag over my shoulder to pull it after me when I get out of the car, snag the bag of Thai food I picked up for supper, push to my feet, and pause a moment before turning back to the car. I need to get my yoga bag out of the car too, or it’ll sit there ’til next week when I need it again, but I really don’t want to. I want to get inside and have food.
*thump*
An empty roll of toilet paper on the lawn catches my eye, and I realize they haven’t picked up the garbage yet – must be because of the holiday – and the top of the bin’s blown open.
*thump*
I pick it up after a long moment of resisting the temptation to overlook it, and stuff it back in the trash, then head back to the car for my yoga bag.
*thump*
I finally look up, wondering what’s causing that repetitive sound, and see a white-clad form standing by a car a few houses down. As I watch, she (he? it?) shuts the trunk, watching dully as it bounces up again.
Zombies, my hindbrain whispers.
I grab my bag out of the car and slam the door, wincing at the noise.
What if it attracts her attention?
What if there are others?
What if I fumble the key?
I don’t fumble the key, and moments later the door is slammed shut behind me, the deadbolt turned. I pull all the shades and check the other doors, shaking my head at my own irrational fears.
Time for Thai!
2012 Plans
There’s an old story, I can’t remember where I read it the first time or what the original source material is, but it goes kind of like this:
***
A long time ago, an Emperor decided that he wanted the best painting of a rooster ever. He called the most renowned artist in the Empire, and offered him this commission, promising great gifts if he succeeded.
The artist was pleased to serve his Emperor, and accepted the commission, telling him that he would contact him when the painting was completed.
A month went by, and the Emperor sent servants to check on the progress of the painting, but they returned with no news. After six months, he sent a general, but he too returned with no news.
After a year had passed, he went to visit the artist himself, and demanded that he produce the painting, or face death for failing in his commission.
The artist brought out paper, a brush, and ink. In a few deft strokes, he drew the most lifelike picture of a rooster that the Emperor had ever seen, and presented it to him before the paint was even dry.
The Emperor was impressed by the beauty of the painting, but incensed by the fact that the artist had made him wait a whole year, just to create the promised painting in less than a minute. He called upon his guards to execute the artist on the spot.
Before they could strike, however, the artist begged the Emperor to allow him to show him something. He led him to his house, and opened up the door, and within, filling every shelf and table and piled up in drifts were paintings of roosters, none so masterful as the one he had just completed.
“My Emperor,” he said, “I have not made you wait on a whim. I needed the year past in order to learn how to paint a rooster that would be worthy of you.”
***
I want to be a novelist, and the way to get better at writing is to write novels. Of course, I’m also impatient. I want to be a good novelist now, and if not now then as soon as possible. The only way to get there, though, is practice. Lots of practice. Intensive practice.
So currently, my plan is to spend two hours a day writing new words, not revising or editing.
I’m also planning to write a novel (or novella) a month over the course of the year. By the time I’ve written twelve month-long stories from start to finish, I think I should be starting to get the hang of it!
The primary goal here is practice, so to make it easier to shut off my internal editor I’m not going to be posting or emailing the finished first drafts – knowing that no one else will ever see them unless I’m happy with the result will help me to relax and just write, and see what happens. I might post excerpts as scintillas, though.
To keep me honest, I’ll be posting a scorecard at the end of each month, reporting on how long the story is, a one-sentence summary of the story, my thoughts about the story upon finishing it, and what aspect(s) of writing I think I need to focus on with the next one.
I’ll also be making frequent random posts with interesting links and personal updates.
So far, I’ve done two days of writing on the first novel, close to three hours yesterday and not quite two hours today. It’s based on a dream that seemed to be inspired by The Hunger Games, so who knows if it’ll be worthwhile or utter drek, but either way it should be fun, and educational.
What are your plans for the year to come?
Cleaning, and planning
Happy New Year!
A little early, but I figure most people will read this tomorrow, so it works.
We did a bit of clearing out today – going through our downstairs bookcases and weeding out the things we’re never going to read again (or for the first time, in the case of several books that looked interesting but didn’t grab us enough to make it past the first few pages.)
Here’s a picture, prior to taking them all over to Good Will. (Oh, and a tea-maker, too!)
Keep in mind, though – that’s only from the downstairs bookcases!
So, on another note, I’ve been thinking about what I want to do, long and short term, and I’ve got assorted plans, but as we’re going over to a friend’s house soon, I think I’ll post the details tomorrow.
In the meantime, Happy New Year, and may 2012 be a wonderful and bountiful year for all of us!
Today…
What can I say, I spent all day playing Sid Meyer’s Civilization V.
I did run the dishwasher, though.
Hope… Warning… it’s all the same
So, I’ve now read four of Connie Suttle’s urban fantasy novels, the first of which I talked about a few days ago.
There are two more out, but I think I’m done for now. Unfortunately, the quality of the writing didn’t get any better, and the story lost a lot of its appeal when I realized that all of the male characters had started to seem exactly the same, and entirely loathsome.
(Especially every single one of the love interests. I’d be more than happy to see every single one of them die horribly.)
Partly, though, I hit my flying snowman moment, that one extra detail that shatters your suspension of disbelief like a plate falling off the George Foreman grill onto the kitchen floor. (That was a couple of days ago too.)
I don’t know if the same detail would have hit someone else the same way, but there were a bunch of other details that had already nudged my suspension of disbelief off balance, so I think it was inevitable that something would.
In any case, if reading the first of her books reassured me that a good story can shine through even if your writing isn’t ZOMG AWESOME! yet, then reading the next three reminded me how important it is to keep getting better!
Better at writing, better at plotting, better at making the characters believable individuals, better at anything you can recognize as a weak point.
I’m not saying this as a criticism for her so much as a goad for myself. I don’t know what her goals are, or what she’s doing to work towards them.
For me, though, while my enjoyment of her first book in spite of its flaws reassures me that people might actually enjoy my writing, I want to make sure I remember that what I’m shooting for is the kind of enthralling, well-written, elegantly plotted stories that my favorite authors deliver.
It may take a long time for me to get there, and I doubt I’ll wait til then before publishing novels, but I want to make sure that I’m always working towards that goal, and never coasting along on “good enough.”
Reset
Yesterday, I woke to discover that all of my habits had disappeared.
All the ones I’ve cultivated on purpose, anyway…
I forgot to take my morning thyroid meds for the first time, which I’ve been taking consistently for a few months now.
I got out of my car and shut the door with the key still in the ignition, instead of in my hand. I’ve spent the past three years or so cultivating an inviolable habit of having my key in my hand any time I shut a door that might be locked, and all of a sudden that habit is gone.
I’ve been forgetting to feed the cat for a few days now, so maybe that was my advance warning. (Don’t worry, she always reminded me.)
It was like opening up your Internet browser to discover that all the bookmarks are gone.
Ah well…
Perhaps it’s just as well. This is a chance to rechoose my habits as I form them again, and hopefully better suited to who I want to be now.
Right?
© 2010 Catherine Wechsler, used with permission.
