Does anyone remember that song? School days, school days, dear old golden rule days…. I am old. Wow.
it’s a loooonnnggg weekend, and coming up on the end of the month, which means a GYWO word count, yay! I actually got back to some writing this month, which feels good. Getting away from needing a pat on the back for every little step and just… writing (even though I did send a very rough draft to a friend for reading because I am special like that. And she was bored. Sue me), so I’ll be adding more to that story before I go back and edit words out. I wrote them so I am counting them!
I also finished A Reliable Wife this morning. Erm. Interesting. It took me so long to finish this book I don’t even know if I can review it but I will try and post it up here. I might have bought a couple of books today…… okay I did buy a couple of books today. They seem to be oldies but goodies but I flipped through them at Target and they looked interesting. I got The Bell Jar by Sylvia Plath and Go Ask Alice, author anonymous.
Looking forward to reading them both!
Some of my readers know me from the world of fanfiction. I write RPF, pretty much the same person in every story, which may mean my fanfiction days are coming to a screeching halt because if it’s one thing I hate, it’s the same story over and over again. But maybe a series……….. anyway. The archive that I use to host my stories (and a lot of archives use) is efiction. It makes it easier to track and post chapter stories and even categorize your works. There’s a limit to how many characters you can post in one chapter. On mine I think it’s like… 50,000 characters or something like that. Elsewhere, the limit is lower, which translates to about 10,000 words, give or take. Now, to some 10,000 words is an entire story. For me, for a serial story, it’s a mere chapter. I know, I write a lot. I’m wordy. It’s a blessing and a curse. I’ve found myself, over the course of telling this tale, tailoring my words to the word limit instead of letting the story tell itself. This amounts to undue pressure and stress and breaking the story up into chunks that don’t really seem to gel, if you read it all at once. It comes through like vignettes and not a complete story, something I may or may not fix once I finish it. So my new approach is to just write. Not try to figure out what is going to happen chapter by chapter. I’m just writing. I’ll split it up into chunks later, edit so that they string together nicely, but I’m just going to write, write, write until it’s done. There is the small matter of reviews (feedback) that come with posting a new chapter. They are quite encouraging and it’s nice to know I’m being read. I’m not sure how I’ll make it without them but I’ll find a way, I’m sure. Maybe once I get stuck on a certain […]
After deciding yesterday that everything I write sucks the big one, I actually added a chapter to All I Wanna Do. AND I really like the chapter! Go figure. :/ I wish I could capture some of this momentum to fix and finish Same Time Next Week. *looks at it* *looks away* *sighs* Baby steps. Coming up on AIWD are a few chapters I’ve been thinking about for a long time but I really have no plans as far as how to execute them. I don’t want to put a lot of time and space between updates though. Hopefully tomorrow night I can sit down with my outline and put some ideas together. Taking the rest of the night off!
I did my usual Sunday entry over at the Diary and I spoke a little about my lack of motivation when it comes to writing. I thought I might glance back at my blog to see if I was feeling the same way around this time last year, and I think that I might have been. Maybe it’s a seasonal thing or a cyclical thing, but I just don’t feel like writing. Sometimes things come to me, additions to my WIP, conversations, ideas. I write them down… it goes nowhere, really. I sit down to add to one of the WIPs I have going and I just feel like it’s lame. So surface and not at all deep or character revealing and just… lame. I think I may have story fatigue, but I do WANT to finish both projects I have going. I just..have zero motivation. I don’t know what else to do when I feel like this, but to wait it out. Making myself write when I don’t feel like writing results in hours of lame prose that I’ll just delete anyway. I hate everything I have written lately and when I read other people’s work, I am so jealous of the level of skill. When I read blogs and see people that are getting book deals from their writing, I’m not so much jealous as…as… I don’t know. I feel like I should be further along than I am and perhaps I am not because I give into these times when I don’t feel like writing. I wrote a new scene for the Flirtfest and liked it at first. A few weeks later I looked at it when I went to post it and absolutely hated it. Bland, unemotional, lame, dull. So I went back to something I wrote when I was doing well. Sometimes I wonder if I am not really a writer, if I struggle so much with writing. It should not be this hard. So […]
On Sunday, May 16, 2010 post your favorite flirty scene, either from one of your WIPs, or a brand new one you’ve written just for this blogfest. It can range anywhere from sweet to hot, and any genre is fair game…you don’t have to be a romance writer to participate! I wrote something specifically for this Fest, but I kind of hate it. It’s so bland. Boo. Then I remembered a scene I really liked from my 2009 NaNoWriMo. It is edited from its original form but the gist is the same. Some steamy flirting going on, so this excerpt is Rated R. Excerpted from Same Time Next Week: Somewhere between the second shot and him letting her win at darts, Shelby decided that whatever was going to happen, was going to happen. It seemed like it was going that way-if he wasn’t to ask her to go home with him, he wouldn’t have asked if she was hungry. That sneak was trying to drag out the date! She didn’t blame him. She wasn’t ready to go home yet, either. ‘Besides, I could use some of that, right now.’ The Dessert Lady was a cute little store front with striped awnings over the windows and tables for two set up around the small space. At the front of the store, a glass case was lined with rows and rows of cakes and pies from cherry to strawberry pie, from pound cake to chocolate cake to coffeecake. Shelby’s eyes lit up at the selection. Jackson was momentarily forgotten-she was lusting after the chocolate torte, sitting in the middle of the case. “Have you had any of these, before?” “Honey, I have had all of these before. They are all excellent. You’re a big fan of chocolate, right? The torte is excellent…” “I was looking at that…” “Or the Six Layer Cake is really good, too… or the Oreo Cheesecake. I’m partial to the Peanut Butter Pie, myself.” After a few minutes of slowly […]
I’ll say this… I am glad I made myself sign up for those blogfests. They will help out in my May count. I haven’t been writing much at all, not even blogging with the same regularity and intensity over on the Diary, and only blogging here when I’ve updated something. My April numbers show it, I feel. I usually hit about 30K words a month. this month I just barely scraped 25K. Got to get on the ball! Right after I take a nap. I’ve attached the chart that I use to track and submit my numbers. There are corresponding monthly charts behind it that feed into this one. This just gives me a snapshot of where I am. Almost 50%! WOOO! Even given my slackerificness, I am head of the game. GYWO_2010_Pledge_Tracker
Following is my entry to Charity’s 50 Followers Baking Blogfest. The challenge is to write a scene in which my characters bake something. I took the characters from my fanfiction piece. Since I’m not used to warning or rating things but people will be reading it, we’ll call this an R and warn for adult language and light sexual content in conversation, not action. They looked more like they were in trouble than if they’d been recruited. Side by side they stood, aprons tied tightly, hands washed and dried, sullen expressions on their faces. Like thirteen year olds, except they were grown men. “Don’t even,” I said, pacing in front of them, not falling for the ‘poor me’ pout. “You two are so damn spoiled, and maybe it’s my fault, because I’ve been cooking since I moved in. But last night, when Ty actually placed an order, I decided you guys needed to help, so perk up those faces.” I leveled a stern glare at each of them. “Because you’re not getting out of this.” They both sighed, shoulders sagging. JC was the first to break the somber mood, clapping his hands together and plastering a fake but happy grin on his face. Tyler followed suit. “Better,” I said, with a smile and a nod. I pointed toward the longest counter in the kitchen, where three balls of dough were evenly spaced and dusted with flour. “So come over here to this counter. I’ll stand in the middle. You guys stand on either side and watch me. Do what I do. Get me?” “Gotcha,” Tyler said, choosing the ball of dough to my left. “Stop sucking up to the teacher,” JC whined at him over my head. “Dude, if anyone has an advantage, it’s you,” Tyler shot back. Then to me, he said, “I expect a lot of extra help. Your boyfriend gets no special privileges.” “Both of you shut up or I’ll make you do this more often. Okay. […]