So close I can taste it!

I haven't counted my word totals in a while. Those weeks where I wasn't writing due to other commitments loomed large in my head. I didn't feel like I was making progress. But I had a couple of good days this week where the writing was easy and the word counts mounted up so I thought I'd check out my total. I don't always write linearly, sometimes a scene pops up out of sequence and I open a new document. At the moment I have fourteen separate documents that I'll have to meld together into one.

So I wrote down the fourteen word counts and added them together: Get this - 58037. That's nearly two thirds of the way through. Two thirds. I could conceivably be done in another month. It'll probably be two because I just don't get that much quiet time to write, especially in the summer, but still I'm getting another book finished.

What you may not understand is that this is amazing to me. Not that I finished one book, that's like me to take on a huge project and push through it. But then I also took on a second and finished it, and now a third, plus I have about half another book waiting for me to go back to it. I'm a fickle person. My usual MO in life is to master something and move on. Or not even master, sometimes it's just complete it and then move on. Or, even more often, Complete one, start on a second or a third and then just abandon it, because I'm bored with it now. Or I can't find the time. I have a quilt in pieces in my sewing box. A cross stitch 90 percent complete. An afghan in pieces - I may just say that they are scarfs and let it go at that. A crochet Boa scarf I havent' completed because I just don't have the time. But the books - they are getting finished.

Interesting. Part of it may be due to the fact that I now have readers. And they write and ask for the next book, setting up an expectation that I need to fulfill.  But mostly I think it's because the writing is a part of me in a way that the other projects aren't. It allows me to communicate, to use my humor and wit (what there is of it) to entertain. And God knows I love to get a laugh.

So there it is. 58037. Pretty darn good if I say so myself. It brings me more pleasure than I can say. And that makes ME laugh.

A Sentimental Journey

I don’t usually consider myself sentimental. I don’t get choked up at the usual milestones. Kids going off for their first day of Kindergarten? Yippee! Sixteen year old get’s her license and can drive herself back to school to get her forgotten school work? Finally! Kids can put themselves to sleep? Hey, I can go to bed before they do! Can’t beat that. So imagine my surprise when I found myself tearing up at the sight of a hall full of our high school seniors in cap and gown.

Granted our Foreign Exchange Student was in that group, and it’s a reminder that she’ll be leaving us soon. But it was more than that. One of my best friends’ sons was in the group. There were a bunch of students I’ve gotten to know over this last year in a way that wouldn’t be possible if I hadn’t worked in the school. Still, me? Tearing up? What’s going to happen in a couple of years when my oldest graduates? I’m going to flood the school.

I have this funny ache in my chest that has taken me completely by surprise, and not even I can put a funny spin on that. I’m going to miss this group of miscreants.

See me over at Frances Stockton's Blog

I'm over at Frances Stockton's blog talking about some of my creative processes. Come on over and make a comment. - I'm feeling all alone!

So why aren't I writing again?

I'm finished Judging the seven books I committed to for the Daphne pubbed division. Let me tell you, reading, rating and commenting on seven books in three weeks is not easy. You wouldn't think it would be hard, but it is. Why it's hard is complicated, but is partially due to the subjectiveness of judging. What I love another judge may hate. And while that doesn't really affect my scoring, it affects how I feel about the how I score. It's mental work, and if you don't happen to like the book you're judging it's grueling. Because you have to finish. You can't just put it down and move on.

Having finished yesterday I thought I might be able to get back to Glimmer Girls today. But I haven't recovered. I still have all these other stories floating in my head, getting in the way of the magic I need for Clara and Dilly. I should have my soundtrack with me, but it's sitting on my bedside table with the story I was listening to. Soundtrack at home, Collage at home, eyes at half mast. How in the world can I write?

One word at a time.

I may not make my minimum word count today. But in this situation I think I have to forgive myself the word count and just focus on moving forward. One lousy word at a time. Because this isn't going to be one of those easy days when the words pour out. I'm going to have to drag them to the page, kicking a screaming and stick them there with glue.

The Garbage in my Head

As you may, or may not, know, I'm a regular reader of Jenny Crusie and Lucy March's blogs. I think I'm a little like both of these women. Jenny because she writes and she's crafty, Lucy because she's making changes and making her life better.

Lucy is fearless in a way that I am not. She's been willing to look at the junk in the trunk and throw some of it out. In the process she discovered that she likes running. Wow.

I have a lot of trash floating around in my head.
On the whole, I'm optimistic, like people, find life engaging. In fact I think my basic personality is pretty positive. When I was a small child, before my life got complicated, I used to wake up singing in the morning. A friend of mine claims I still do that when I stay at her house, but I don't remember doing it. There just this small bubble of joy that comes out when I'm relaxed and freed from the daily stresses. That's the good stuff.

The garbage in my head, that's the bad stuff. I am harder on myself than any other person in the world. Meaning I'm harder on myself than I am on others, harder on myself than they are on me.

What I was going to write is that I lie to myself. But I don't really think I do. I sugar coat some things. I'm used to beating myself up if I relax instead of doing one of the million things on the to do list. But I'm going to stop that. Everyone is allowed to have down time, for gosh sakes. Even me.

The garbage in my head has a lot to do with shoulds. I should put my kids before myself. I should make more money. Maybe that's more practical, I need to make more money - or spend less. I've stopped thinking I should cook, I should clean. I shouldn't. I do, because it's less hassle than not doing it would be, but really - I think other's in the house could chip in more. I am after all, working full time, writing as much as I can, taking care of 5 kids at the moment. But I do what I need to do keep a certain level of peace and order.

I'm beginning to think there isn't so much garbage in my head after all. Pressure, yes. Plenty of pressure. Garbage, not so much anymore. I'm getting better at tossing that out as it shows up.

Life Crazy

I put Eleanor Rigby on my play list for Glimmer Girls. I thought at first it was a version of Life Crazy. But I'm listening now and I see the connection. Clara, in the midst of so much attention is lonely. Dilly, sequestered away and kept from the world - lonely. Johnny, who can't commit to a relationship because all his energy goes to keeping his sister safe and happy. Molly, working her but off to keep the hotel running, but she really loves to paint.

Clara comes into their lives and changes everything. For the better in the end. I hope. But before she comes it's Eleanor Rigby.

Emotion is so important to the story, it drives my characters actions. The need to feel better. So it's good I can feel those things.

The problem is that when life crazy floods ME with emotions I can't write. The feelings sit in the pit of my stomach, making me feel sick. When I feel sick I want to go to bed and pull the covers over my head.

Isn't it interesting that the very feelings I need to feel in order to write characters that readers relate to cause me to shut down, keep me from writing. I've always had too much emotion for my brain to process. I retreat, pull in on myself, hide. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, I don't have the time or opportunity to spend days holed up in bed hiding from the current version of Life Crazy.

I've committed myself to writing through the crazy - at least for this week.

On another note, I discovered yesterday that I can write a five hundred word essay in twenty minutes, even though it takes me all day to write fifteen hundred words of a novel. So along with committing myself to writing through the crazy I'm also going to write for an hour straight out every morning before doing anything else. I hope this is not doomed to failure. To get an hour of quiet in the morning means the getting up at five am routine. I'm not good at that.

To tell the truth I think the reason it takes me all day to reach my word quota is that I'm writing in a room full of teenage kids. Five in the morning is starting to look much saner than when I first mentioned it.

The Not Writing Week

In case the title isn't clear, I'm not writing this week. It's not an intentional Not-Writing-Week. I started in a blue funk over some uncontrobable thing, moved into reading for a writer friend who wanted some advice and ended with oh-here's-California-Schemin' and you-need-to-make-some-changes from my California expert and line editor de jour, Lisa.

I'll get another set of changes before too long from my other line editor de jour, but hopefully they won't be a bunch different from Lisa's. But they may not be too different from the ones I already have. I hope. I hope alot.

So I haven't writen one word of Glimmer Girls. Really. Not one word. It's kind of hard to make word counts when I'm not writing. Duh. As it happens I'm not getting the Glimmer Girls mood this week either. I haven't got a sound track yet, and the collage isn't finished. So my usual fail-safes for getting into the mood, aren't in place.

The weekend is here so I'll push myself to stay up late and do a sound track. The collage is harder, because I need certain kinds of pictures on glossy paper. I usually use magazines, but there's a certain magic element that isn't common in gossips rags. I may have to break down and print color pics off the internet onto photo paper. Expensive, but there is a NEED for it.

Being a poor writer sucks sometimes. If I was flush I could just go to joannes or michaels and buy lovely scrapbook items to put on my collage. I have to be more creative than that, which is okay, but takes time. As time is skint too, I have to get really creative and manufacture time and materials and stories. After all it's all about stories. People in my head that refuse to go away unless I write about them.

The Glimmer Girls voices are surprisingly silent this week. I doubt that will last.