To be a writer
Or write-ist, as Mr Stuart would have it (which is like being a writer, only not so grown-up and serious about it, so he's going to have to change that soon).
The trite little truism is that to be a writer, you have to write. So of late it would be fair to say I have not been a writer, not really. More of a rewriter, or perhaps a word-fiddler (which isn't a crime, yet). OK, so I've been blogging a bit, which is sort of creative in a work-avoidance kind of way (and better than cleaning the house any day), but that in itself is part of the problem. I don't seem able to focus on the job in hand.
I have a plan for the major rewrite of Sir Benfro book two. I've even got as far as printing out the plan, with different colours to show the different character points of view and everything slotted into the whole to make a pleasing balance and a tight, linear storyline. Now it's just a question of writing the new sections and finessing (is that allowed as a verb?) the existing sections to let it all make sense. What I seem to be lacking is the essential enthusiasm for the project that is crucial for its success. It took three attempts yesterday to get one section written. If I was using an old-fashioned typewriter I'd be knee deep in scrumpled up paper by now.
This time last year I sat down and wrote Benfro book one (which came after book two - it's complicated) in a little over two months. 110,000 words in nine weeks, or around 2500 words a day (not including the odd days when I had to work). There was a time when I would have thought that a pathetic figure - I've done stints of 10,000 words a day in the past, though the quality of that output leaves something to be desired. Yesterday's (final) output was shy of a thousand words. The day before I managed about 500. The day before that I didn't write anything at all.
So maybe I am improving after all. Enough of this moaning (and blogging). It's time to pit Queen Beulah against the evil Llanwennog spies, and have her fall in love with the dashing young Clun (and anyone who can spot the theme running through those names spends too much time reading Farmer's Weekly). Today I will be a writer.
The trite little truism is that to be a writer, you have to write. So of late it would be fair to say I have not been a writer, not really. More of a rewriter, or perhaps a word-fiddler (which isn't a crime, yet). OK, so I've been blogging a bit, which is sort of creative in a work-avoidance kind of way (and better than cleaning the house any day), but that in itself is part of the problem. I don't seem able to focus on the job in hand.
I have a plan for the major rewrite of Sir Benfro book two. I've even got as far as printing out the plan, with different colours to show the different character points of view and everything slotted into the whole to make a pleasing balance and a tight, linear storyline. Now it's just a question of writing the new sections and finessing (is that allowed as a verb?) the existing sections to let it all make sense. What I seem to be lacking is the essential enthusiasm for the project that is crucial for its success. It took three attempts yesterday to get one section written. If I was using an old-fashioned typewriter I'd be knee deep in scrumpled up paper by now.
This time last year I sat down and wrote Benfro book one (which came after book two - it's complicated) in a little over two months. 110,000 words in nine weeks, or around 2500 words a day (not including the odd days when I had to work). There was a time when I would have thought that a pathetic figure - I've done stints of 10,000 words a day in the past, though the quality of that output leaves something to be desired. Yesterday's (final) output was shy of a thousand words. The day before I managed about 500. The day before that I didn't write anything at all.
So maybe I am improving after all. Enough of this moaning (and blogging). It's time to pit Queen Beulah against the evil Llanwennog spies, and have her fall in love with the dashing young Clun (and anyone who can spot the theme running through those names spends too much time reading Farmer's Weekly). Today I will be a writer.
Comments
Maybe you need to give book 2 some more space, write something else that really does excite you and let the little voices in your head chatter away about what can happen and all the fun you're going to have when you get back to it? Are forced out words better or worse than ones that come naturally?
OK, I know this probably isn't the 'go team go' response you were looking for, but sometimes a change really is as good as a rest.
It comes and goes in waves, like depression. And in the past I have found that the best thing to do is crack on until my mojo comes home.
And if what I write is pants, well, I'll just erase it, pick myself up, and start all over again ;}#