Be A Writer, It'll Be Fun

Arg. Tuesday is my writing night and this particular writing night has been mildly unproductive.  Or was that wildly unproductive.  Part of the problem is that I seem to want to write vignettes (which are static dead-ends) or  poetry (which I suppose counts as "art"). 

I guess I need to just force myself to write short stories based on a modular outline—what my friend Nina calls "roll-ups"—for the next few months just to get started and to have a story with an ending.  I'll have to see if I can come up with something other than "quest" or "secret library" or "whiney hero" plots (or "eye-candy" non-plots).  

Here; have a recent hummingbird photo.

Journal: Sept 26, 2014

Project:  OTP "Property" Challenge

WD:  560 words in about 60 minutes.

Very tired this morning.  I channeled my inner Alethea Kontis and forced myself to write.  OK.  So, I didn't actually have my butt in a chair and I wasn't exactly at a desk; I was propped up on the couch and my eyes were closed some of the time, but I managed to keep my focus going and write words.  I'm going to have to finish this manuscript this weekend, because the deadline is looming.  

Workout:  160 calories in about 12 minutes plus weight clinking.  I'm trying to find a good triceps workout that doesn't make the tendon stretching through the outside my elbow joint feel strange, but so far the suggestions haven't worked or I'm doing them wrong.  Otherwise, my Wicked Plan to Look Good Naked (And Conquer the World!) appears to be (mostly) on track -- the hard part is eating less junk food so the spare tire around my middle melts away.

Writing Progress: Focus on the Character

Whew.

Yesterday was a writing night.  It was like pulling teeth.  If I hadn't been away from the house, I think I would have found something else to do.  But instead I typed "It was a dark and stormy night" a few times and "I hate this writing" a few more and the words started to come out.

Most of it was story related.  After some consideration and discussion, the story length that wants to come out is probably a novella.  This would be fine, except that I'm aiming for a 2000 to 3000 word short story for Sword and Sorceress.  That and--despite making an outline--I've started the story about four chapters too early (so much for that street fight scene).

Oh well:  Write now, edit later.

The chant for the next few days is going to be "focus on the character" to remind myself not to get bogged down in the world-building stuff like maps, and magic systems, and the German language, and what would life in a magical nun's convent be like, and ...

Dreams and Writing

Crazy dreams lately.  Two nights ago I had a matchmaking dream for one of our friends... before that there was the hypnogogic mesh image that floated behind my eyelids before I fell asleep.  The other night I must have come out to at least two dream people.  I'm guessing that explaining to someone that some stories I write have gay characters because I'm gay might have something to do with that.

Last night I dreamed I was walking somewhere very icy and I had to watch out for cars sliding over an embankment and into me.  Then I was in a magic dream garden someone had decorated with lights and cut-out dioramas -- I think it was winter and spring in the garden at the same time, because I have a strong recollection of twiggy branches in the snow (lit up with small strings of lights) and verdant leaves and spring flowers (also lit up with lights).   I'm going to blame recent paper cutout art  projects for last night.

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On the writing front, during a recent writing excersice, I managed to crank out about 600 words in about 30 minutes.  I'm reminding myself about that when I notice that I "only have a half hour to write."    

Writing in the mornings this week hasn't worked out so well... except for the morning when I woke up sore, decided to take a bath, and floated with my ears underwater and the fawcet dribbling and the bathroom fan on and asked myself what the characters were going to do and worked out story problems.  (Yes, it's true, my joints are officially barometers, and if I wake up with my feet hurting then it probably rained over night.)

And, in my mind, Chris Hadfield is standing over my bed as I squint at the clock to see if I can sleep for just five more minutes, and he says, "...don't let life kick you into becoming the adult you don't want to be."  Ug.  I think becoming a Morning Lark would be easier in microgravity.  

And now, to the Day Jobbe.