subscribeProductivity! I has it.
Tuesday July 6, 2010
Despite the holiday weekend (ahem, Friday to Monday) and despite a few out-of-town jaunts, I’ve written over 20,000 words in a fresh rewrite of a project I started on Saturday, June 26. I needed something to work on while I’m still sending out / waiting on the most recent completed project and switching gears entirely and working towards another fully-completed, sellable project made perfect sense. Also, with my summer break from work, I finally have the time to simply get this done. It feels so good.
This one is YA fantasy (shocker), with a lot of the elements of a swords-and-horses-and-princesses kind of fantasy, but with a couple of flip-the-genre-on-its-head unconventional twists of plot and character. (Yay for being vague!) At its heart, this is a story about mothers and daughters, fathers and sons; about questioning one’s role in one’s family and the larger world; of others’ expectations versus personal desires; of truth, deceptions, and consequences. (EVEN MORE VAGUE!) Is it better to break out of the shadow of your elders and try to be your own person, strike the consequences, or is it better to surpass your elders’ expectations of you in following the path they’ve set for you? I always find I write stories about finding one’s identity, about reconciling expectations: those of your parents, of others, and of yourself. Granted, it’s fantasy, so I’ve taken some, ahem, magical liberties shall I say, in the extrapolation of these circumstances. But like any interesting fantasy, this story resonates with me (as a writer especially) because it’s ultimately about the journeys of the characters as they try to come into their own, to prove they’re just about grown up — to everyone as well as to themselves.
Also, this story has nothing to do with “destiny” because I happen to think the “destiny” trope has been done [well and poorly] by others and I’ve no interest in exploring it. Besides, I happen to think “expectations” are a lot more annoying, harder to handle, and more interesting as a relatable concept to a reader in a non-fantastical context because we all have them, or others have them for us. Really: which is harder to live with, being destined to do great things, or being expected to do great things? The externality of the pressure of “destiny” is interesting, but it’s remote. Destiny implies a deity or other such remote being/concept with a “plan” (for one or for all), and that can get sticky — and epic. I heart epic, but this story is not epic. (And that’s another thing this all comes down to: what is right for this story.) Here I’d much rather stick to human beings and their relationships.
Like everything I write, it has no title, so I may refer to it here as a lot of things including “this story” and/or “the WiP.” I hate titling things until I must, then even afterward I squirm uncomfortably. (Even titling these blog posts feels odd, which is why so many of them seem like partial sentences or involve language reminiscent of I Can Has Cheezburger.)
Now, back to Scrivener and its loveliness!
It’s That Time of Year Again!
Thursday November 5, 2009
NaNoWriMo time, of course!
(I did see Christmas decorations at Duane Reade, though, so I do suppose it’s also that time of year, but the NaNo time of year is far more important.)
This morning I am at 18,955 words. I sprinted through the first few days and now I am in the midst of a tough scene, which has me stalled. Must push through! Several factors have helped me with my word count thus far: the first is that I conceived this story in its current form in 2007 and haven’t had the excuse, chance, or energy to do more than outline it in all that time. I’m working off of an outline but I’ve also held scenes in all of their vivid, visual clarity in my head for far longer than I really ought to have. I have a strangely visual memory when it comes to imaginary things. (Like, when I recount the plot of a novel to someone, I actually imagine the strings of images my brain put together and rebuild the story from those images.) I’m a weird duck.
The next factor is I was diagnosed with a case of bronchitis last Friday, October 30th, so by the time midnight between October 31st and November 1st rolled around, I was at home coughing up a lung and bored. So I started writing. (Getting two thousand words before bed was… exhilarating.) I spent all of Sunday writing (my friend and I even attempted to squeeze in at the Manhattan Write-in but it was stuffed full of people, so we went to an adorable little tea shop instead with the laptops.) Monday I took off from work and sat around, hacking and writing in tandem. Tuesday I was in the midst of an incredible scene. Then another, then another. Thus… 18,955 words. I had told myself I’d hit 20,000 yesterday but the Yankees decided they were going to absolutely kill the Phillies and I was torn the whole time between writing and rooting for the Phillies — yes I am a New Yorker but sometimes it’s no fun to root for the winning team! — and so I sort of stalled. That and I found I was prematurely digging into the meat of the story that I really need to wait on, so I actually need to backtrack and rewrite a little, then resume the forward momentum. That can be the hardest part of NaNoWriMo for me: I write fastest and best when I write compelling, exciting, integral scenes, and while I try to always write that way, it doesn’t happen like that in a first draft. No matter how well I outline there are still boring little bits (to me) that I slog through. I’m also a perfectionist, so first drafts drive me a little crazy there, too. I hesitate over a sentence if it’s not, well, good enough. But NaNo at least gives me the freedom to say, “Yes, it’s not good enough, just keep going and get it all out!” There’s really literary abandon in that, and I love it.
It’s exciting times, November. Can’t wait to get back to it.
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