Writing--A delicate balance between determination and ignoring my family
I guess you all know that I've been working on a new book. But did you know I JUST FINISHED IT?
That's right, my friends, it is completely finished and off to my writing group tonight so we can go over it.
One of my main character traits involves starting things, mastering them, losing interest, and abandoning them permenantly. Usually this process is short because if I can't do something damn near perfect the first time I try it, I am generally uninterested in pursuing it at all.
Sounds pathetic, I know, but that's the way I am.
A couple years ago, when I first decided I should be writing books, since there was so much crap out there and I figured my crap was as good as anyone else's crap, I developed this pretty decent idea for a story based on King Solomom. A couple chapters in, and I realized I just didn't have the skills developed to complete it the way I wanted it to be.
So, I started another one, which turned out to be much more like an 80,000 word stream of consciousness than an actualy story, but there were some things I liked about it, so I kept at it. Will that book ever meet a publisher? Hahahah hoooooohoooo ha he he he he.... shoot... Yeah, I doubt it. Not without a facelift, liposuction, and a team of industrial painters.
But, still undaunted (this is the point of this post in case you missed it) I pressed forward, developing a pretty nice concept for a series of books set in Cottonwood Heights, mainly because I really like that name. That's the thing about writing: you get to use up all the really good names you wanted to name your kids or your pets or your pet's kids. Anyway, I had a great start of that one, as in I could tell I was developing my skills, getting into a groove, and establishing the habit to write and to not stare at the blank screen wishing I could write, all really good things for a writer to have in her arsenal.
Well, then along came National Novel Writing Month and, deciding to give it a try, my Sweetwater series was born. It was one of those fast births that you don't make it to the hospital for, even though you would rather have the baby in the hospital than the cab of the NaNo truck, but anyway, the child was born and grew into a funny little monster. Meaning: you were supposed to write the entire novel during the month of November, so finishing the novel I was on was sort of cheating...not that it really mattered. The Cowboy Clock was a conglomeration of a lot of other peoples' ideas which I miraculously smooshed together. I know, tooting my own horn, but it's my blog.
Halfway through the second novel in the Sweetwater series, a not-as-funny story about an internet horiscope-ologist (wait...what?) called The Greenhorn (that's not a dirty word, is it?), and losing a little steam on it and a little afraid I might lose interest entirely in this perhaps ill-fated and futile hobby (see above), I got the fabulous idea to write a book for young adult aged girls.
WHAT? I know.
Well, anyway, I went with it, interviewed some girls, checked out the market, and began to write. I had to cut out half of my first attempt because it was sucky, but as you have just been informed, IT'S FINISHED!
So, anyway, the moral of the story is that it took a really long time for me to get something good that I'm proud to call mine. The book, it's cool, but it's just the byproduct of what really happened, yeah? And I owe it all to Brandon Tucker for writing in my yearbook that if I kept writing I would be happy.
Just kidding. I owe it all to myself.
That's right, my friends, it is completely finished and off to my writing group tonight so we can go over it.
One of my main character traits involves starting things, mastering them, losing interest, and abandoning them permenantly. Usually this process is short because if I can't do something damn near perfect the first time I try it, I am generally uninterested in pursuing it at all.
Sounds pathetic, I know, but that's the way I am.
A couple years ago, when I first decided I should be writing books, since there was so much crap out there and I figured my crap was as good as anyone else's crap, I developed this pretty decent idea for a story based on King Solomom. A couple chapters in, and I realized I just didn't have the skills developed to complete it the way I wanted it to be.
So, I started another one, which turned out to be much more like an 80,000 word stream of consciousness than an actualy story, but there were some things I liked about it, so I kept at it. Will that book ever meet a publisher? Hahahah hoooooohoooo ha he he he he.... shoot... Yeah, I doubt it. Not without a facelift, liposuction, and a team of industrial painters.
But, still undaunted (this is the point of this post in case you missed it) I pressed forward, developing a pretty nice concept for a series of books set in Cottonwood Heights, mainly because I really like that name. That's the thing about writing: you get to use up all the really good names you wanted to name your kids or your pets or your pet's kids. Anyway, I had a great start of that one, as in I could tell I was developing my skills, getting into a groove, and establishing the habit to write and to not stare at the blank screen wishing I could write, all really good things for a writer to have in her arsenal.
Well, then along came National Novel Writing Month and, deciding to give it a try, my Sweetwater series was born. It was one of those fast births that you don't make it to the hospital for, even though you would rather have the baby in the hospital than the cab of the NaNo truck, but anyway, the child was born and grew into a funny little monster. Meaning: you were supposed to write the entire novel during the month of November, so finishing the novel I was on was sort of cheating...not that it really mattered. The Cowboy Clock was a conglomeration of a lot of other peoples' ideas which I miraculously smooshed together. I know, tooting my own horn, but it's my blog.
Halfway through the second novel in the Sweetwater series, a not-as-funny story about an internet horiscope-ologist (wait...what?) called The Greenhorn (that's not a dirty word, is it?), and losing a little steam on it and a little afraid I might lose interest entirely in this perhaps ill-fated and futile hobby (see above), I got the fabulous idea to write a book for young adult aged girls.
WHAT? I know.
Well, anyway, I went with it, interviewed some girls, checked out the market, and began to write. I had to cut out half of my first attempt because it was sucky, but as you have just been informed, IT'S FINISHED!
So, anyway, the moral of the story is that it took a really long time for me to get something good that I'm proud to call mine. The book, it's cool, but it's just the byproduct of what really happened, yeah? And I owe it all to Brandon Tucker for writing in my yearbook that if I kept writing I would be happy.
Just kidding. I owe it all to myself.
Comments
I'm on page 3 of my second book in the Gifts of Time trilogy... I know, WAY far! lol Oh well, being a mom comes first when you have a tornado for a three year old!